


A Washington Holiday

by lakin21



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Henry is a gay English major, Kinda, Multi, Roman Holiday AU, Secret Identity, What if Alex didn't make it to the royal wedding?, and it shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakin21/pseuds/lakin21
Summary: Prince Henry goes rogue during the last leg of his American goodwill tour, and it's up to Alex to find out why. When June asks Alex to secretly interview the runaway Henry for an article, he reluctantly agrees.The catch? Alex has to pretend he doesn't know who Henry is. The bigger catch? He has to pretend to enjoy Henry's company. Well, maybe that second one is going to be easier than he first thoughtorThe Roman Holiday AU you never knew you needed (except it's set in DC)
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran
Comments: 46
Kudos: 131





	1. Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the 1953 film with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. I haven’t written anything in a while, but the movie plot works so well with these two. Comments are always appreciated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is reaching the end of his American goodwill tour. How is he holding up? Extremely well, thank you.

Friday October 4th 2019

 **BUZZFEED:** 10 pictures from Prince Henry’s goodwill tour that will make you reevaluate your stance on marriage

 **THE SUN:** Prince Henry’s American tour ends in Washington

 **PEOPLE:** The White House Ballroom decor for Prince Henry’s reception Saturday costs how much?!

 **MIRROR:** Check out Prince Henry’s room at the President’s guest house!

 **EXPRESS:** Prince Henry stays cool throughout two weeks of appearances

\----

Henry truly believed that despite their great cultural and political diversity, all governments were united by their urge to decorate buildings with portraits of unhappy monarchs and military officers. Henry sighed and chanced a glance to his left, once again locking eyes with the image of some long-dead American general. It wasn’t that Henry had no appreciation for art or history, quite the opposite really, but he preferred to sleep without being watched by disturbingly life-like, painted eyes.

Henry picked at the edge of his robe and moved to sit down on the overstuffed cream sofa. While not nearly as lavish as most of the rooms in Kensington Palace, his suite at the Blair House was clearly decorated by someone who favored royal decor. The room seemed like a gold and cream amalgamation of the various palace bedrooms. He supposed that made sense, colonial influence and such. The room was likely designed to make foreign dignitaries feel at home. None of the chintzy decor set Henry at ease, though he never felt much at ease at home either.

Henry was engaged in a staring match with an unsettling portrait of what was likely a first lady or favored Presidential daughter, when Shaan entered the room.

“I think you will eventually have to accept your defeat, given she can’t blink,” Shaan said with a slight smirk. Henry fell back onto the sofa with a sigh and began to pick at the hem of his robe again.

“I hate this robe”

“It's a very nice robe,” Shaan replied. Henry had to admit that Shaan had a point. Of course it was nice, all of his things were nice. That wasn’t the point.

“I'm not two hundred years old!” Henry protested, “Why can't I sleep in old t-shirts and ratty sweatpants?”

Shaan gave no answer, and Henry stood up off the sofa to push aside the velvet curtains and look out the window. In the park across the street, a group of college kids blasted music and laughed. Henry watched as a young couple strolled past, hand-in-hand, and a street vendor closed up shop. The park was full of normal people, even at night. Henry wondered what it would be like to be one of the park goers, heading home to sleep in a room devoid of gaudy curtains or portraits.

“You should get to sleep,” Shaan said, interrupting Henry’s train of thought.

Henry frowned as he stepped back, letting the curtain fall back across the window, “I won’t be able to fall asleep.”

“Then let’s review tomorrow's schedule.” Shaan produced a stylus and began to run through items on his tablet. Henry reluctantly returned to the sofa.

“Let’s.”

“Eight thirty, breakfast here with the Blair House staff; nine o'clock, we leave for the Automotive Works where you'll be presented with a small car.”

“Thank you,” Henry remarked, absentmindedly fiddling with the coaster on the coffee table.

“Which you will not accept.”

“No, thank you,” Henry amended. 

“Nine thirty-five, food and agricultural organization will present you with an olive tree.”

“No, thank you.”

“Which you will accept.”

“Thank you.”

“Nine fifty-five, the Newfoundling Home For Orphans. You will preside over the laying of the cornerstone; same speech as last Monday.”

“Trade relations?”

“Yes,” Shaan replied half-listening.

“For the orphans?” Henry asked, waiting for Shaan to correct him.

“No, sorry, the other one.”

“Ah,” Henry said before adopting an overly formal voice that sounded suspiciously like Phillip’s, “Youth and progress.”

“Precisely. Ten forty-five, back here to rest. No, that's wrong... ten forty-five, conference here with the press.”

“Ah yes,'Dignity and decorum.'”

“One o'clock sharp, lunch with the Foreign Ministry. Three-o five, presentation of a plaque.”

“Thank you,” Henry muttered.

“Four-ten, review special guard.”

“No, thank you.”

“Four forty-five-” Shaan continued. Henry could feel something building in his chest as he muttered his practiced responses of “How do you do?”, “So happy”, “charmed”. His breaths grew short as he faked a wave, a bow, a handshake.

“Then you change for your meeting with-”

“Stop!”Henry yelled, bringing Shaan’s review to a halt, “Please stop! Stop...!” Henry could feel his lungs aching as he tried to draw in air. His hands had begun to shake, causing him to drop the coaster he had been fiddling with. Distantly he could hear the sound of “Henry…”

“I can’t do this,” he said, “Any of it!”

Shaan shot him a pitying look, “Control your breathing. Control-”

“-I don't want to control myself! That’s all I ever do!” Henry got up from the couch and threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in the decorative pillows, which muffled his yells.

Shaan turned off the tablet and began to move toward the door. “I’ll get you something to help you sleep,” he said, closing the bedroom door as he left.

Henry lifted his face from the pillows with a groan. “It's no use; I'll be dead before he gets back. This family and all its old traditions are going to kill me before thirty.” Henry flipped over onto his back and traced the patterns of the bed canopy with his eyes, measuring his breaths carefully.

After a few minutes, Shaan reentered the room with a pill bottle and a glass of water. “It is important for you to be calm and relaxed for the press conference.”

“Don't worry,” Henry replied, “I'll be calm and relaxed and I-I'll bow and I'll smile and- I'll improve trade relations and I, and I…” the idea became too much and Henry buried his face in the pillows once more.

Shaan sighed and tapped Henry’s shoulder, prompting him to turn toward the man. “Prince Henry, take this”

“What?”

“Sleeping pill,” Shaan said, handing Henry two blue tablets. Henry took the tablets and swallowed them down before accepting the glass of water from Shaan.

“It may take a bit of time to kick in. Just lie down,” Shaan said. He walked to the doorway before stopping and turning his head back, “Goodnight, Prince Henry.”

“Goodnight, Shaan.”

Shaan turned off the light and shut the door behind him. Henry returned to studying the designs on the fabric of the bed canopy. The thought of another day of meetings settled in his stomach with a sick sort of acceptance. Henry stood up from the bed and returned to the window, pulling back the velvet curtains. Outside, the park was silent save for the occasional pedestrian out on a late night stroll. He once again was struck with the realization that the park goers got to lead normal lives in normal rooms without worrying about dignity or decorum.

Henry rested his hand on the windowsill; his signet ring caught the light from a street lamp. Henry raised his hand and examined the ring. Twelve hundred years of tradition and restraint were all wrapped around his finger. Suddenly, Henry felt a sudden urge to pull off the ring; he felt it was the same as a pair of manacles. He removed the ring and set it on the windowsill, still gazing out across the park. His head had gone a bit fuzzy, but it felt almost good. He couldn’t remember what he had been so upset about earlier. There was an entire world out there for him to explore, how could he be upset?

Henry rushed to the wardrobe, stopping to steady himself when he was overcome with a wave of dizziness. He stripped off his robe and put on a polo shirt and some pants. His phone sat on the bedside table, and Henry wondered whether to bring it with him. He would only be gone for a few hours at most, just long enough to walk around the park; he wouldn’t need it.

Henry grabbed the door handle and quietly pushed open the door, checking for security. At the end of the hall, one guard stirred slightly in his chair. Henry froze, waiting for any indication he had been spotted, but when the guard turned in the chair Henry could see the man was asleep. 

Quietly, he pulled the bedroom door closed and began to tiptoe down the hall toward a side door. Henry poked his head out the door and scanned the garden. He couldn’t help but think that the garden had seemed much less blurry when he had seen it earlier. He was also fairly certain that the fountain wasn’t supposed to look like it was spinning. In fact, the entire world seemed to be spinning much more than could be considered normal. Henry attempted to lean against a bench but misjudged the distance and nearly fell to the gravel.

As he straightened up, he caught sight of a truck parked inside the gate to the garden, filled with bags of fertilizer and the like. Henry glanced around before shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the dizzy feeling. When the world began to spin slightly slower, he made a mad dash for the truck and pulled himself up to lay among the rakes and coiled watering hoses. The watering hoses looked suspiciously like snakes, and Henry was unsure whether they could be trusted, but when his head began to spin again, he decided it didn’t matter. He was so tired. He began to drift off to sleep, a bag of mulch as his pillow.

After what seemed like barely a second, Henry was jolted awake. He looked around in confusion before remembering that he had stowed-away in the truck, which had come to a quick stop to avoid a dog in the road. Henry pulled himself up and hopped off onto the sidewalk. Finally, he could take his stroll in the park, without being shuttled to and fro by advisors and guards. When he turned to take off toward the park, he suddenly noticed that the park had disappeared. In fact, he seemed to be in an entirely different part of the city. Henry staggered over to a nearby bench to sit down and think. He should probably find a way back to the guest house, but his eyelids were so heavy. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt.


	2. The Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually when Alex sees somebody asleep on a bench, they aren’t dressed better than him.

“Bet five.”

“Five. How many?” Alex asked, placing his money on the hotel coffee table.Nora seemed to consider his question for a moment before placing her own bet.

“One.”

“I'll take one,” said June. 

“Fool,” Alex tried to suppress his smirk as he checked his cards, “Two for papa.” 

“Five more,” June said, placing more in the pool, “And don’t call yourself that” 

Alex ignored his sister as Nora placed her bet. “Five; and, er, raise you ten.” Alex narrowed his eyes and searched Nora’s face for any indications concerning her hand. Even after dating, he still could never get a read on Nora, not that them dating had led to any deep mutual understandings.

“Two pairs,” June said, laying her cards on the table. 

Alex smirked as he laid down his own cards. “Oh, well I got three sevens.” 

The two siblings turned to Nora. Nora deliberately schooled her face into a small frown before putting down her cards, “A nervous straight.”

Alex and June groaned as Nora began to collect the money and add it to her steadily growing pile of bills.

“Why did I agree to play an actual statistics expert again?” Alex asked as Nora gleefully snatched his last bill.

“You’re an idiot.” While Alex usually liked to think of himself as an intelligent person, he felt inclined to agree with Nora. He was still haunted by memories of the last time the three of them had played go fish, which had been unusually brutal for a children’s card game. He had never heard his sister swear more in one sentence than when she lost that game. Alex’s train of thought was interrupted by said sister standing up from the scratchy, carpeted hotel floor.

“We’ll have to head out,” June said, pulling on her coat, “I gotta get up early: date with his royal highness who will graciously answer some questions from the press.” 

Alex felt his nose wrinkle at the mention of Prince Henry.

“Ugh.He’s so obnoxious.”

“So we’ve heard.”

“And he’s boring,” Alex continued, undeterred by Nora’s comment, “It’s like he’s too polite; there must be something he’s hiding.”

June rolled her eyes. “Thank God for stomach bugs. If you’d made the royal wedding last month, you would have caused an international incident.”

“No I wouldn’t have! I can be civil,” Alex said with a pout.

Nora gave him a smirk, “Sure.” 

Alex could be civil. He had charmed half the delegates in Washington. It wasn’t his fault Henry hated his guts. It wasn’t his fault the prince was educated in some sort of posh boarding school where they taught you how to be a buzzkill.

Alex pulled himself up off the floor to follow June out the door, grabbing his coat as Nora called out her goodbyes. He stepped into the elevator with June, and she quickly moved to push the button before he could. He stabbed at a few other buttons in retaliation.

“Real mature, Alex. Now it’s going to take ten minutes just to get downstairs.” 

When the elevator finally reached the ground floor of the hotel, Alex pulled on his coat and braced himself to face the chilly October air. He may have moved to Washington three years ago, but he was still a Texas boy at heart. One who could not handle the cold.

Alex and June walked along the sidewalk toward the corner where the car had been sent to pick them up, hands in their pockets. A homeless man appeared to be sleeping on a bench by the corner. A homeless man who looked like he just walked out of Brooks Brothers catalog. 

Wait, what?

Alex nudged June and turned his attention to the bench. The two slowed down to see a man in his twenties asleep on the bench, looking like he had just come from a rough night at the yacht club. His face was turned into the rough wood of the bench, and his golden hair was disheveled and shining in the light of the street lamp. Suddenly, the man began to murmur in his sleep.

“Sooooo happy.”

Alex made eye contact with June, silently trying to decide whether to talk to this strangely fit stranger. Before deciding whether or not he should ask if the man was okay, the man in question began to turn in his sleep, rolling off the bench toward the concrete sidewalk.

“Catch him!” June yelled.

Alex rushed over to catch the man before he could hit the ground. The man burrowed his face in Alex’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up!”

“Thank you very much, delighted,” the man mumbled, holding out his hand as if for a handshake.

June gently jostled the man’s shoulder, “Wake up.”

“No, thank you,” the man replied before raising his hand in a weak imitation of a wave, “It’s a pleasure. You may sit down.” Alex could hear the slurred British accent now, full of dipping vowels and crisp consonants.

Alex looked at June incredulously. Who granted others permission to sit on a public bench in the city? Who got plastered at midnight and then passed out on a bench in a shirt worth as much as Alex’s textbooks?

“I think you better sit up,” June said softly as Alex laid the man back on the bench, “you’ll get picked up by the police for loitering”

“Police?”

“Yep, po-lice,” Alex said, clearly enunciating for the drunk stranger’s benefit.

“Two-fifteen and back here to change. Two forty-five…”

Alex sat down on the bench where the other man still had his face turned into the wooden backrest. “You know: people who can't handle liquor shouldn't drink too much-,” 

“‘-How should we like it were stars to burn. With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me.’ Do you know that poem?” the man asked, voice suddenly breaking. Alex sat on the bench, looking at the back of the stranger’s head with curiosity.

“You're well-read, well-dressed, and drunk off your ass in a public street.”

“Would you care to make a statement?” June asked, her reporter instincts kicking in.

“What the world needs is a return to dignity and decorum in-” his speech was cut off by the arrival of the car. 

Alex stood up and gave the man an awkward pat on the shoulder, “Get a coffee; you'll be alright.”

June yanked on Alex’s arm as he went to walk to the car. “We can’t leave him here,” she whispered, eyes drifting back to the man where he had begun to hum tunelessly.

“You wanna take him back to the residence?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow. The man probably didn’t even know his name at this point; there was no way he could answer a series of security questions. When June gave no response, Alex sighed and walked back over to the bench. He grabbed the man’s shoulder to shake him awake, but then the man turned over.

The man’s hair fell back from his face and- that face. Alex and June froze before turning to look at each other. Holy shit.

“Is that?” June asked.

“I think so.”

“Well now we definitely have to take him somewhere.”

“Come on,” Alex said, hauling up the _goddamn prince_ , “get in the car and we can take you home.” Henry stumbled a bit before draping his arm more securely around Alex’s shoulders and standing upright.

“Do you have any money?” June asked.

“Don’t carry money.”

Alex rolled his eyes. Of course the prince didn’t carry petty cash. “You should start,” he snipped. Henry’s face fell for a brief moment before the same blissed-out smile returned. Alex resisted the urge to punch him in his stupid greek-statue nose. Instead, he pushed Henry into the car, ignoring the look the driver gave him in the rearview mirror when he climbed in beside Henry.

“We’ll drop you off.”

Henry hummed and let his head fall on Alex’s shoulder, his golden hair tickling Alex’s neck. “Let’s go...Washington Monument”

“You can’t be that drunk.” 

Henry let out a laugh, and his head fell from Alex’s shoulder to his chest. “I'm not drunk at all. I'm just verrrrry haaaappy......” 

Alex lightly slapped Henry’s face, “Hey, don't fall asleep again. Come on. Come on.” 

“I....Washington Monument”

Alex turned to June, “He wants to go to the Washington Monument.” 

“We could take him back to Blair House.”

This seemed to wake Henry, and he began to squirm in his seat. “No...don’t want to go back,” he murmured, burrowing his face in Alex’s shirt. Alex shoved the prince off and turned to tell the driver to stop at the guest house but stopped. Henry’s eyes weren’t glazed over anymore, instead they were anxious and desperate and sad. Alex caught himself and broke eye contact. He was about to make a huge mistake

“Fine,” Alex said,“ June, tell mom I’m staying at that apartment dad has over on Church Street. Session’s out. It’ll be empty. I’ve got stuff over there. I can take him back to Blair House in the morning once he’s gotten through whatever this is.”

June’s mouth pressed into a fine line, and she seemed ready to protest. Alex sent her a pleading look, and she relented with a sigh, “Fine. I’ll send Zahra over later.”

Alex turned his attention to the driver who had been patiently waiting for directions in silence, “June’s going back to the residence. Take me to fifty-one Church Street after.”

The driver set off, and Alex tried to prevent Henry from slumping over into the car door as the car turned corners. An especially abrupt stop threw the unbalanced Henry into Alex’s lap, and Alex squawked before shoving Henry off his lap and into the car door. June shot Alex a smirk and muttered something along the lines of “real civil” before the car stopped at the residence. June stepped out of the car and turned back as if to say something, but instead just closed the door. Alex felt he was going to owe her some sort of favor after tonight, which was totally unfair considering that he was the one stuck taking care of Prince Plastered.

  
\---

The car pulled up outside the apartment building on Church Street, and Alex silently thanked his dad for giving him a key years ago “just in case.” Alex thanked the driver and stepped out of the car before remembering the tall, blonde problem still asleep in the car. Alex glanced back at Henry, still asleep, and silently debated whether to send him back to the guest house. He reached in to shake Henry’s shoulder, waking the prince. Another look in those sad, blue eyes confirmed that, yes, Alex was doing this. The driver gallantly pretended not to notice as Alex struggled to drag six feet of barely-conscious monarch out of the backseat and into the apartment building. 

Alex waved the driver off before allowing the door to swing shut behind him and turning toward the elevator, which was out-of-order. Fantastic. 

Three flights of stairs later, Alex arrived at the door to his dad’s apartment, a half-conscious Henry leaning on his shoulder. Henry appeared to be about two seconds away from collapsing in the hallway, which would be a shitty thing to do after Alex had spent so much effort to keep the guy upright. 

Alex rooted through his pockets to find his key ring with it’s little Texas pendant, attempting to prop Henry up as he did so. He pulled out the keys and gently pushed Henry off him so he could unlock the door. Just as he stepped through the doorway, Henry began to sway, and Alex found himself once again acting as a crutch. 

“This is insane,” Alex muttered to himself as he led Henry into the apartment. He didn’t even like the guy; why was he doing this? It’s not like it was his job to take care of Henry, and it wouldn’t be his fault if the prince got arrested for public drunkenness. Alex pulled the door shut behind him, and Henry stumbled into the center of the living room.

“Is this the elevator?” Henry asked, brow quirking in confusion.

“It's an apartment. Sorry it’s not up to your standards.”

Henry gave an assenting hum before stumbling to prop himself up against the bedroom doorframe. He screwed up his face and swayed on his feet.

“I'm terribly sorry to mention it, but the dizziness is getting worse.”

Alex ignored Henry and went into the bedroom to search the dresser drawer where he kept his things. 

“Do you have a silk robe?” Henry asked.

Alex pulled out an old lacrosse tshirt and a pair of sweatpants and held them out to Henry, “I'm afraid you'll have to rough it, your highness.”

Henry, for his part, seemed delighted. He grabbed at the clothes and held them with an almost reverent care. “An old t-shirt!” 

“Sorry, but I don’t have a silk robe.”

Henry’s face broke out into a smile so big it was almost stupid, nothing like the close-mouthed grin plastered across the papers. His eyes almost sparkled before glazing over once again, his expression shifting to one of nausea.

“I’m so dizzy. Will you help me get undressed, please?”

Alex stood stock still next to the dresser. _What?_ He took a step toward Henry and undid the man’s necktie with fumbling fingers. He let the silk slip between his fingers before holding it out to Henry. Henry stared into Alex’s eyes before noticing the necktie and taking it back.

“There you go; you can get the rest,” Alex said.

Henry began to unbutton his cuffs as he started to ramble, “I can’t imagine what- I shouldn’t be-This is very unusual. Hm, I don't seem to mind.” Henry’s face broke into another too wide smile as he began to unbutton his shirt,“Do you?”

Alex turned his gaze away from Henry, and he pulled a pillow from the bed. “You should get to sleep.” Henry began to walk toward the bed, still struggling with his shirt. Alex caught him before the prince could lay down. “Oh, no, no; on the couch.” 

“How terribly nice,” Henry said, his enthusiasm apparently not diminished in the slightest. A brief silence descended on the room as Alex moved to grab some blankets off the bed.

“Do you want to hear my second favorite poem?” Henry asked.

“No.”

Henry’s eyes went wide and sad before he continued on, “‘Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine in one spirit meet and mingle.Why not I with thine?’—Keats.”

“Shelley,” Alex corrected, remembering back to a brief unit on Romantic writers.

Henry screwed up his face into an impressive pout. “Keats!”

“I- it's Shelley. I'll be back in about ten minutes,” Alex said. He needed to get out of this apartment before he committed a murder.

“You have my permission to withdraw,” Henry said, voice posh and indifferent and so very different from his whinings about poetry.

Alex stopped in the doorway. “Thank you very much for the permission,” he drawled before stepping out of the apartment. 

After a quick walk up and down the stairs to cool off, Alex stepped back into the apartment, closing the door loudly behind him. Henry could deal with it. 

Wait. Where was Henry? He wasn’t on the couch, and he couldn’t have left while Alex was- he was on the bed. Dead asleep. Great.

Alex walked up to the edge of the bed and shook Henry by the shoulder. Henry, apparently unbothered, burrowed deeper into the pillow. This was going to be fun. Alex scanned the sleeping Henry, trying to estimate how much the man could really weigh. Alex was a fairly fit guy. 

He worked his arms under Henry’s body and attempted to lift him off the bed, succeeding only in dropping Henry on the floor and probably throwing out his back. Henry stirred a bit, and Alex led him to the living room, propping up over a hundred fifty pounds of dead weight.

Henry fell face first onto the sofa so hard it couldn’t have been comfortable. “So happy,” he mumbled.

“I’ve heard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s that. Please comment if you notice any errors or even if you just want to say hi. You can probably see now why this story hd to shift perspectives. The next chapter will also be from Alex’s POV. The first poem excerpt is “The More Loving One” by Auden, a gay British poet. I highly recommend reading the poem (major Henry vibes). The second poem is “Love’s Philosophy”, and it is actually by Shelley.


	3. The Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is about a day away from sparking an international crisis, June needs a favor, and Zahra needs a raise.

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzt._

Alex threw out his hand in an effort to make his phone shut up. When the buzzing continued, Alex groaned and reluctantly sat up. A quick glance at the screen confirmed that he was getting a call. From June. Why would June call him instead of just walking across the hall to his- Oh. Right. Not at the residence. 

“Oh shit, the prince’s interview.” Alex scrambled to answer his phone, confirming with a quick glance at the screen that it was indeed past ten forty-five. 

_“Have you seen the news?”_ June asked immediately.

“Good morning to you too, dearest sister.”

_“Have you seen the news?”_

“No,” Alex replied, scanning the room for the television remote. 

_“Our prince has made the headlines”_

Alex grabbed the remote from the dresser and switched on the news. A picture of Henry’s face occupied half the screen, and a sullen reporter occupied the other.

“-have received word from the Blair House that Prince Henry has fallen ill and will be cancelling all public appearances for the day, and possibly the remainder of his trip,” the newscaster reported with a solemn expression.

Alex turned down the volume and turned his attention back to June’s chattering on the phone, “Fallen ill?” he questioned.

 _“They don’t want to spark an international crisis,”_ June replied, her voice nasally and fatigued even through the tinny phone speaker.

“Are you okay? You sound terrible”

 _“Gee, thanks,”_ June said.

“Just saying.”

_“I think I got that stomach bug you had.”_

“That’s rough.” Alex still got queasy just thinking about how sick he was a few weeks ago.

 _“Listen, Alex, there’s something I need you to do for me,”_ June said.

“What?”

 _“Interview Prince Henry.”_ Suddenly the background noise from the television sounded much quieter. Everything seemed to go quiet with anticipation.

“Sorry, what?”

_“When my boss found out I couldn’t cover the interview because I was sick, he got mad, and he got angrier when I tried to lie about being there. Because I thought you were supposed to take him back to the Blair House this morning.”_

“I slept in.”

 _“You don’t sleep,”_ June replied, her tone accusatory, which was fair. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he had slept more than a handful of hours at a time.

“It was a strange night for all of us.”

_“Anyway- I offered my boss a killer story: a private interview with Prince Henry. It’s worth ten grand plus a promotion. This is my chance to finally move on from puff pieces and start covering real politics.”_

“He won’t tell me anything, and I don’t want to talk to him,” Alex replied, getting out of bed and peering into the living room where Henry was still asleep on the couch. “Why would he talk to me? He knows I hate him.”

_“No. He knows you hate Prince Henry.”_

“What?” Alex said. That made no sense. 

_“He doesn’t have to know that you know he’s the prince,”_ June continued. _“You two haven’t seen each other in person in what? Three and a half years? It’s perfectly reasonable to assume you might not recognize him.”_

“He’s on the cover of every tabloid, and his face is being broadcast on every news channel this very minute.”

_“Play dumb. Shouldn’t be that difficult for you.”_

Alex rubbed at his eyes, silently cursing the stupid decision he was about to make. “What am I even supposed to ask him about, assuming we don’t immediately murder each other?”

_“Everything. What’s it like growing up a royal? What would he change about his country given the chance? What are his deepest desires?”_

“June, you hate it when the tabloids pull this shit with us.”

 _“This is different. It’s not some trashy article based on rumors, it’s a real interview. Plus, didn’t you say you thought he was hiding something? Here’s your chance to find out what.”_ Alex stayed silent. “ _Alex, this is my shot. Do this for me. Please?"_

Alex let out a sigh, “Fine.”

_“Thank you! Oh, and get pictures”_

“How?”

_“Bye, Alex.”_

The line went dead, and Alex groaned. Why did he agree to this? Henry would probably bore him to death, and then June wouldn’t get her interview anyway. Alex shot off a text to Nora.

**_You took a photography class sophomore year,right?_**

**Yeah**

**_Can you get over here in about thirty minutes with your camera?_**

**I'm busy.**

_**I need pictures**_

**I can't come now. I'm meeting someone at Cafe du Parc to talk stats in an hour.**

Alex groaned and put his phone away. A sudden knock at the door interrupted the quiet of the apartment. Another glance into the living room confirmed that the prince was still soundly asleep, his hair sticking to his face rather unattractively. Alex padded past the sleeping Henry and slipped through the front door, running directly into Zahra.

Zahra seemed to no longer have eye bags, instead she had upgraded to eye suitcases and was wearing a very pissed off expression that did not bode well for Alex. She seemed to be running on pure spite.

“Everything ok, Zahra?” Zahra shot him a glare that could kill a man. Alex braced himself.

“Listen here, Alex: I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but whatever this is it’s a bad idea,” she ranted as she began to pace the hallway, “I almost didn’t believe June when she said you had Prince Henry in a one bedroom apartment in Dupont Circle. ‘He can’t be that stupid,’ I thought,” Alex winced as Zahra jabbed a finger at his chest, “But it turns out he is that stupid. You are that stupid.”

“Just give me one day. One day. Then you can ask all the questions you want.”

“This is not a negotiation, Alex,” she whisper yelled, “The prince of Wales is missing, and this whole thing is about to become an international incident, even if people don’t know it yet.”

“I promise I will get him back by tomorrow morning, Zahra. I have something I need to do.”

“Oh, really?” Zahra asked, raising one eyebrow so sharply that Alex could almost feel it stabbing at his conscience.

“Weren’t you the one who said I should make an effort to get along with this asshole?” 

“Yes but-”

“-Exactly. I am taking the initiative here. All I need is one day.”

“I must be insane,” Zahra muttered to herself as she pinched at the bridge of her nose like she was trying to relieve an especially bad headache. Alex had won.

“Thank you,” Alex replied; then he slipped back into the apartment before Zahra could say anything else. He would have to ask someone about getting her a raise.

Henry was still sound asleep on the sofa, though he occasionally squirmed as he tried to cocoon himself in the fleece throw. His head barely peeked out from underneath the blanket. Alex stood above Henry, wondering what the protocol was for waking up hungover royalty. Guess he would find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of just a brief info-cram, so it is not my favorite. Oh well. In the original movie, the main guy is actually a reporter, but June is already a reporter in canon so I decided to take advantage of that. Let me know if you spot any errors. The next chapter will be back to Henry's POV.


	4. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry had such a strange dream and— he's not in his room. Oh no.

Henry closed his eyes tighter against the light. He thought he had remembered to close the curtains last night. Faintly he heard a voice.

“Your Highness?” 

Henry stirred and turned on his side, eyes still closed. “Shaan…” He shut his eyes even tighter. He wasn’t ready to do it. He couldn’t get up and attend meetings and smile and act like he was happy.

“Oh, oh, sure, yes. Is there anything you want to tell me?” Shaan asked. His voice sounded different; his accent was strange.

Henry began to speak, eyes still closed as he drifted between sleeping and waking, “I dreamt I was asleep on the street and two people came up to me... this young man came and-” Henry screwed his face up before continuing,“he was so mean to me.” Henry felt himself smile at the memory,“It was wonderful.” The man had been so snippy, but he had looked oddly familiar, just like...Oh, it was one of those dreams again. It had been three years, and he still couldn’t get one guy out of his head? Pathetic.

Henry forced his eyes open against the light and scanned his room. Wait a second. This was not his room at the guest house with all its frivolous decor. Henry wasn’t even on a bed; he was laying on an old sofa. A pair of brown eyes was staring down at him. Those eyes were not Shaan’s. Those eyes were...Oh fuck.

“Good morning,” Alex said cheerfully. Henry bolted upward on the sofa. Oh no. Oh no, this could not be happening. He must be having some sort of vivid, sleeping-pill induced hallucination. Henry closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened his eyes, he would be back in the gaudy guest house, not in some one-bedroom walkup with a man who hated him for no reason.

“I said good morning,” Alex said.

Henry sighed and opened his eyes, accepting his fate. Alex was still standing next to the sofa, arms crossed, looking vaguely amused. 

“Morning,” Henry replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “Have I been here all night...alone?” 

Alex gave a small smirk, “If you don't count me, yes.”

Henry froze. What did that mean? Oh no. He wouldn’t have-He didn’t- He couldn’t have- Alex wouldn’t have even-“So I've spent the night here-with you?” he asked, spacing out his words clearly and cautiously to make sure Alex understood.

Alex immediately balked, throwing up his hands in a sort of frantic gesture, “Oh, well, I- I wouldn’t say-I’m not-, but from a certain angle, yes.”

Henry let out a sigh of relief. Of coure they hadn’t- Alex wasn’t even- Henry was being stupid, and everything was perfectly fine. Henry laughed in spite of himself; this wasn’t one of his stupid dreams, of course nothing had happened. 

“I’m Alex Claremont-Díaz.”

“Yes...” Henry said. He knew who Alex was. The two had met at the Rio Olympic games three years ago, and the first son of the United States had featured prominently in a series of guilt-inducing daydreams. Why would Alex think Henry had forgotten his name? 

Alex shifted uneasily on his feet, and Henry gestured to the armchair next to the sofa, “You can sit down.” 

”Thank you for so generously offering me a seat in my own apartment,” Alex said, choosing to sit instead on the end of the sofa by Henry’s feet. 

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Henry let the silence grow, as he attempted to recall the details of last night. There had been the sleeping pills and then some sort of truck and then...Henry vaguely recalled a woman and a man, Alex, coming up to him- 

“-What's your name?” Alex asked, interrupting Henry’s train of thought. 

“Er...you don’t know who-“

“-We’ve just met, you didn’t tell me last night.” 

“And you don’t recognize me?” Henry asked, watching Alex’s face for a sign the other man was lying; though why would Alex lie about not recognizing Henry? 

“Should I?” _Should he?_ Even if Alex didn’t recognize Henry from the Olympics, Henry’s face was regularly featured on a variety of papers and magazines. Surely, the first son of the United States read the newspaper. Christ, Henry was supposed to attend a reception at the White House tomorrow! 

“Call me ‘H’.” 

“Really,‘H’?” 

“Yes.”

“Well H, would you like a cup of coffee?” Alex asked, standing from the sofa and wandering toward the singular counter that comprised the entirety of the apartment’s kitchen.

“No,” Henry said, “May I use your bathroom?” 

“Go right ahead. It’s just through there.” Henry pulled himself up off the sofa, grabbing what appeared to be his clothes off the table, and went through the bedroom into the bathroom. He splashed his face with some water then looked up into the mirror over the sink. His face was textured from sleeping on the woven sofa, and he was wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely not his clothes. His hair was mussed up, and he looked normal. Maybe Alex wasn’t used to seeing Henry in normal clothes? 

Henry changed back into his own shirt and slacks and folded the pajamas neatly, placing them on the bed as he walked to the living room. Alex was holding a mug labeled “#1 Dad” and sipping his coffee. His hair was unruly, curls flopping onto his forehead, and his expression seemed uncharacteristically calm. Henry watched from the doorway to the bedroom a bit longer before forcing himself to break into the bubble.

“Excuse me,” Henry said, “What time is it?”

“Oh, about twelve thirty.” 

“Shit! Or um-” Henry frantically began to search the apartment for his shoes. He needed his phone too. Shaan was going to be livid. Henry had already missed at least three separate obligations. What was it? The automotive works, the agriculture something or other... “I have to go!” 

“Why? what's your hurry?” Alex asked, pouring himself another cup of coffee, “We’ve only just met. Let’s get lunch.”

Henry found one shoe shoved between the sofa cushions, and pulled it onto his foot, “I'm sorry. I don't have time. I have to get to a meeting,” he said, pulling the other shoe from beneath its hiding spot under the coffee table.

“Must be a pretty important meeting to skip breakfast and lunch. Most important meal of the day and all.”

“It is. Important, I mean. The meeting, not the breakfast, though that’s important too.”

“Well, I'll go with you, wherever you’re going”

“That's alright, thank you,” Henry said, turning to open the door, “Goodbye, Alex Claremont-Díaz.” Henry shut the door behind him and raced down the stairs and out through the building’s entrance. He began to speed walk down the sidewalk, and he made it nearly a block before realizing he had no idea where he was going. He had no phone, no security, and no money. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk,thinking, and then felt somebody run into him.

Henry turned to apologize before realizing the man who had run into him was Alex.

Alex let out a small laugh, deep and lilting, “Small world.”

“Yes-I almost forgot: could you lend me some money?” 

Alex looked confused before his eyes lit up and he reached for his wallet, “Oh, yeah; you didn't have any did you? How much do you want?”

Henry tried to remember how much a taxi should cost, before remembering that he had never taken a taxi. “Well, I’m not sure how much I’ll need.”

“Well, er, here’s a fifty,” Alex said, handing over the bill before pocketing his wallet.

“I'll arrange for it to be sent back to you,” Henry said.“What is your address?” 

Alex floundered for a bit, presumably attempting to avoid explaining he lived at the White House. Henry felt his face break into a smile as Alex blushed and offered up “ums” and “ers.” It was nice to see the shorter man’s charming facade slip. Henry let Alex mumble for a few more minutes before taking pity on the man and cutting him off.

“I’m sure I can get it to you, Alex Claremont-Díaz.”

Alex gave a quick nod, promptly shutting up. Henry continued down the sidewalk, Alex walking silently beside him, his hands shoved in the pockets of his chinos. Henry needed to lose Alex if he wanted to get back without Alex figuring out who he was. The sound of people grew louder as Henry turned the corner into an open-air craft market. Perfect.

Henry slipped between stalls, Alex close behind until one particularly persistent vendor pulled the first son aside, holding up necklaces and exclaiming, “So pretty. For your girl.” 

Henry slipped past the market stalls, leaving Alex behind, before ducking into the nearest shop. The shop was filled to the brim with various DC clothing and paraphernalia, one wall covered in shirts bearing the logos of local sports teams. Henry glanced down at his own attire and decided it would be a good idea to change if he wanted to make it back to the guest house without being mobbed by the press that were surely congregated outside. 

Henry absentmindedly sifted through a rack of touristy t-shirts, grabbing an obnoxiously pink shirt emblazoned with the words “Future Madame President.” After a second of deliberation, he grabbed an equally bright tote bag and a pair of sunglasses. Henry surveyed his haul and concluded that he wouldn’t want to look too long at anybody wearing that much neon. It would work.

Henry dumped his purchases on the counter and looked up at the dark-haired woman running the cash register with a polite smile.The woman went to ring up the shirt, eyed Henry in his tailored button-up, then looked back at the shirt. She raised one pierced eyebrow.

“You sure?”

“I'm quite sure, thank you.” 

“Okay, she said with a shrug, “Nice accent. What are you doing in town?”

“Oh I um-”

The woman cut him off before he could try to come up with an answer, “I know: you're here for that modelling expo!”

Henry gave her a sheepish smile as he handed over the money Alex gave him, suddenly a bit uncomfortable,“Thank you.”

“You can change in the back if you want.”

“Thank you.”

Henry slipped behind the curtain she had indicated into the backroom and pulled off his button down, shoving it into the tote bag. He shrugged on the t-shirt and propped the sunglasses up on his head before stepping back into the main store area.

The woman running the register gave him a once-over when he stepped out. “You look good. Why don’t you come dancing tonight with my friends and I? It's on a boat at the Wharf Market docks. Fun, music, maybe even romance?” she added. Henry crossed his one arm over his chest and glanced down at the sticky laminate flooring. Was this flirting? She was definitely flirting with him. 

“I don’t know if I can make it.”

“Well if you change your mind...After nine o'clock, I'll be there. Ask for Maria,” she said.

”Thank you. Goodbye.” 

Henry ran out of the shop and continued down the sidewalk, stopping to look at his reflection in a store window. He looked like a highlighter, but overall he was satisfied.

He was pulled from his examination by the sound of dogs barking. Looking across the busy street, Henry spotted a few dogs running in a small park. He probably had time for a walk in the park.

After a few minutes walking through the park, Henry began to regret not purchasing a jacket. The wind was picking up, and Henry looked around for a spot in the sun, his gaze finally landing on an empty bench. Henry rubbed at his arms to keep warm and sat down on the bench, letting the sun warm him up. He would give himself just a few minutes, then he really must head back to the guest house. Henry allowed himself to close his eyes against the sun and sink into the bench.

“It's you!”

Henry’s eyes snapped open to the sight of Alex Claremont-Diaz for the second time that day.“Yes, it’s me.” 

Alex gave Henry a brief once-over, examining his outfit with amusement, “Or is it?” 

Henry felt himself flush, uncomfortable in a very different way than he had been when the cashier had done the same thing. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.”

Henry scooted to the side and Alex sat down on the bench next to him. What was with Henry’s luck? Was he never going to get rid of that man? Was it not enough that Alex was always in the back of his mind, now he had to run into the man around DC?

“I have a confession to make,” Henry admitted. He could tell Alex a bit; it’s not like the other man knew who Henry was.

“A confession?”

“Yes, I... ran away last night, from…” Henry tried to think of an acceptable end to that sentence, “my house.”

“You live in DC?” Alex asked, disbelieving. 

“Um. Yes.”

“So the accent is-?”

“I’ve moved around,” Henry cut in quickly. Excellent. He was an idiot.

Alex simply shrugged at Henry’s excuse and continued speaking, “Why’d you run away? Trouble with family?”

“Not exactly,” Henry said, pushing down the memories of his breakdown the night before.

“Well, people don't run away for no reason.”

“Well, it was only meant to be for an hour or two. I took something last night to make myself sleep and well...Now I'd better go back.”

“Before you do, why don't you take some time for yourself?”

Henry shook his head, “Maybe another hour to walk.”

Alex ignored Henry, and grew increasingly enthusiastic as he spoke, “Why only an hour? Live dangerously: take the whole day!”

Henry paused, thinking of the various consequences and public engagements awaiting him back at Blair House. This was what he had wanted: a day of just being normal. The possibilities were endless. “I could do some of the things I've always wanted to do,” Henry murmured.

“Like what?” Alex prompted, his hand falling onto the bench a couple inches from Henry’s. Henry pulled his hand away on instinct.

“Oh, you can't imagine... I'd- I'd like to do whatever I'd like, the whole day long!” 

“Like buying a tacky t-shirt?“

Henry put on an exaggerated pout, “I thought you liked the shirt.”

“I do!” Alex assured him, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not on the bench.

“Well, I'd like to sit at a sidewalk cafe; go to the museum and have to go through the security scanner; see the city! Have fun and maybe some excitement,” Henry turned his face away for Alex, suddenly embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. Alex probably thought all of that was stupid. 

Alex spoke up, “Sounds great. Why don't we do all those things together. Today's gonna be a holiday.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Henry said as Alex stood from the bench, pulling Henry up with him. Henry wasn’t sure he could survive that.

“I do. First stop: a sidewalk cafe,” Alex said, his hands fanning out like he was setting the scene for some great play, “I know just the place: Cafe du Parc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the sightseeing begin! I've been to DC several times, so I will be pulling out all of those memories for this fic. Feedback is always welcome, especially if I made a mistake and didn't catch it. I think this fic should end up being about fifteen chapters, but things can change. I’ll give you one guess about who they run into next.


	5. The Café

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex takes some time to get to know Henry. For the sake of the interview, of course. No other reason.

Alex couldn’t help thinking Henry seemed _different_ than he had been at the Olympics. Maybe it was the outfit, but Alex felt fairly confident it was the assumed anonymity that made Henry less reserved. The prince’s signature close-lipped smile was replaced by a softer, realer grin as he sat watching cars zip past the café, his eyes wide. 

Henry looked entirely out of place, and Alex suddenly realized that this was probably the first time Henry had been anywhere without security; though Alex was sure they were not truly without security after his conversation with Zahra. Alex wondered what that would be like, to live your entire life in the public eye. Alex had only had to do so for the past three years, and he was already exhausted.

“What'll the people at home say when they see your new look?” Alex asked, picking up the menu.

Henry’s brow furrowed for a bit before smoothing out. “They'll have a fit,” he laughed, “I doubt they’ll find it nearly as dashing as I do.”

Alex allowed himself a small smile as Henry ran a hand through his golden hair before remembering who he was with. So what if the guy could be funny? He had still been a dick. 

The arrival of their waiter pulled Alex from his internal debate over Henry’s likability. Alex ordered a coffee (his third of the day), and the waiter turned to Henry

“Tea, please,” Henry told the waiter, who quickly jotted down the drinks and left the table.

“I have to say. That’s a little stereotypical of you.”

“What?” Henry asked, turning away from his view of the street toward Alex.

“The brit taking tea.”

“Well, what should I ask for, champagne?” 

“You have that a lot?” Alex asked.

Henry hesitated for a second before answering, obviously weighing his words, “Only on special occasions.”

“For instance?”

“The last was my grandmother's anniversary.” 

“Wedding?” 

“No, it was…” Henry paused for a moment, “the sixtieth anniversary of umm...the day she got her job.”

“Sixty years on the job,” Alex said,“What does she do?” 

Henry’s eyes went wide for half a second, a reaction so quick it was barely noticeable. Alex noticed. Henry began to fiddle with the napkins on the table as he answered, “Well she mostly does...public relations.”

“Oh, that's tough work,” Alex prompted with a smirk. Being the Queen of England was technically within the realm of public relations, but that wasn’t the first way Alex would describe the position.

“It is- tough work I mean. My mother does it too,” Henry put down the napkin he had been fiddling with before taking a breath and continuing, “I don’t care for it.” _Interesting._

“Does your mother? Care for it?”

“I've heard her complain about it.” 

“Why doesn't she quit?”

“Well, people in that line of work almost never do quit,” Henry replied, “unless they physically are unable to continue.” 

Alex let the conversation die out as the waiter approached their table with the drinks. Alex pointed out a wrap on the menu, and Henry placed his order. Once the waiter had left, Henry turned to Alex with an almost mischievous gleam in his eye.

“What do you do?” Henry asked, relaxing back into his chair.

“Oh, I'm a student,” Alex replied quickly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“And your parents?”

Did Henry really not recognize him? Sure, June said people change in three years, but Alex didn’t look _that_ different. Did Alex want Henry to know he was the first son if Henry didn’t know already? “My parents- They’re,er, involved with the government.” 

“Really? how interesting,” Henry replied, eyes narrowing.

“Uh-huh.”

“So, is that how you generally present the fact that your mother is the president?”

Alex choked on his coffee, forcing himself to take a few breaths before responding. “You know who I am, huh?”

“Of course,” Henry said quickly. When Alex didn’t reply, Henry quickly attempted to cover for his answer, “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Fair enough.”

“But really,” Henry said, “don’t you have class? Or do you just prance around DC all day like some delinquent?”

“Well, I-“ Alex stopped, catching a glimpse of the curly head of hair he had been watching for since they arrived. He sent Henry an apologetic look before standing and rushing over. “Nora! Good to see you.” 

“Why, did you forget your wallet?” Nora asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Alex ignored her comment and began to drag Nora back to his table by the elbow. “Er, pull up a chair, Nora.”

Nora obligingly grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat down before turning toward Henry, who had put his sunglasses back on as the sunlight spread from table to table. “Just until the guy I’m meeting gets here...Aren't you gonna introduce me?” Nora asked, gesturing toward Henry.

“Yes, this is my friend, Nora Holleran.” Henry held out his hand over the table, and Nora shook it. “Nora, this is H.”

“What’s that stand for?” Nora asked, withdrawing her hand.

Alex couldn't see Henry’s eyes behind the sunglasses, but he had a feeling they went wide the same way they had when Alex had asked about Henry’s grandmother. 

“Harrison- it’s short for- My name is Harrison.”

“Like Harrison Ford?” Nora asked. Henry colored a bit at the question. 

“Um- yes.”

“Your parents Star Wars fans?” she asked.

“That’s not- No. I am, though.” _Huh._ Alex didn’t remember seeing anything about the prince being a fan of Star Wars before. The last article he had seen said Henry’s favorite movie was the film adaptation of _Great Expectations_ or something.

Nora spoke up, “Anybody ever tell you you're a dead ringer for-” Alex aimed a swift kick at her leg under the table. Nora winced and glanced up at Alex, annoyed. Alex subtly pointed one finger at Henry, who was distracted by a busker on the corner across the street. Nora sent him a confused look.

Henry turned his attention back to Nora, “Tell me, Ms. Holleran: er, what is a ringer?” 

Alex cut in before Nora could speak, “It's an American term and er, it means anybody who has a great deal of charm.” Nora sent Alex a puzzled look, which he ignored.

The waiter arrived with their food, and Alex dug into his wrap, all too happy to cut the conversation short. If Nora could just read the very unclear signals Alex was sending her, there wouldn’t be a problem.

“Alex was just telling me about what he does,” Henry said, dipping his spoon into his bowl of soup.

“The classes or the subtle political manipulation?” Alex sent Nora his coldest glare, which she ignored completely.

“What do you do?” Henry asked.

“I do some work with statistics,” Nora paused and gave Henry another close look, “If it wasn't for that outfit, I'd swear that you-” Alex panicked and kicked at Nora under the table again, only this time he missed her leg completely and instead toppled her chair. Nora fell back, drawing looks from some of the other customers. Henry quickly stood and went to help her up.

“Thanks,” she said.

Alex got up as well, rounding the table to grab Nora’s arm. He pretended to check her over for injury.

“...bad bruise there,” Alex said, leading Nora toward the café building, “Better go inside and get that checked out.” Alex turned back to Henry, who looked equal parts worried and confused, “Excuse us for a minute.” 

Alex led Nora past the doors toward a nook at the back of the café. 

“Alex, what are you doing?” Nora whispered, wrenching her arm from his grasp.

“You have your camera with you?”

“What's that got to do with it?” 

“You got it?”

“Yeah! but what-”

Alex cut her off, ”-Look, he knows who I am but he doesn't know I know who he is. Look, Nora, I promised June I’d do this for her today, and I cannot mess it up”

Nora started, “Wait. He really is-“ 

“June is sick. She asked me to interview him, and she needs photos for the story. You’ll get twenty-five percent of the money.”

“Thirty-five,” Nora countered, her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s not even my money. You don’t even know how much you’re getting!”

Nora scoffed, “I don’t care about the money. It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Fine,” Alex said, “Thirty-five percent of ten thousand. That’s three thousand dollars.”

“Thirty-five hundred”

“Whatever.”

“Alex, we can't go running around town with a... hot prince!” 

“For me?” Alex asked, pouting. Nora remained unmoved. “For June?”

Nora let out a sigh, “Let's go to work.”

Alex clapped her on the back, and the two returned to the table. Henry sat drinking his tea as the waiter cleared the table, looking distinguished even in his neon t-shirt and slacks combo. 

“Better now?” Henry asked Nora.

“Oh, yeah, Alex fixed it.” 

Alex sat down and handed his card to the waiter, who rushed off, likely eager to get them out of the restaurant. Alex leaned back in his chair with a grin, “Well, what should we do next? What’s the schedule?” 

Henry’s face went pale. “Oh, not that word, please,” he groaned. 

“Oh, I didn't-I meant a fun schedule. Sightseeing, that sort of thing,” Alex replied, taking his card back from the waiter.

Henry gave Alex another one of those small smiles he seemed to have been hiding, “Yes, let's just go.”

The three rose from their seats and began to walk toward the street when a man in his early thirties approached them. Oh no, had they been recognized? Was Alex about to be reported for kidnapping the prince?

The man tapped Nora on the shoulder, “Holleran, are you ready to look over that latest spread?”

Right. Nora’s meeting.

Nora looked back and forth between the man and Henry and Alex, “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ve got some other work to do,” Alex continued on his way toward the sidewalk, dragging Henry along with him. Nora rushed after them, calling back to the man, “I'll send you an email!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided that the Queen’s jubilee occurred right after Phillip’s wedding. Why? The line from the movie was too good to pass up on. Feedback is always appreciated (especially if I missed any mistakes). Coming up: Sightseeing! Lingering touches! Breaking city biking laws?


	6. Good Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sightseeing is great. Henry is definitely listening when Alex explains the history of the monuments, not looking at Alex’s lips.

Trees were fascinating, Henry had decided. The changing colors were far more interesting to look at than anything else, like the way Alex’s hips moved when he walked, or the way Alex’s forehead wrinkled when he tried to read something far away, or the way Alex- Anyway, the foliage was simply beautiful.

Henry was in the middle of examining an especially colorful maple while Alex bent over to pick up a piece of litter when they were ambushed.

A girl of about sixteen spoke up in an all-too-familiar tone, “Is that him?” Henry slouched in on himself. He couldn’t be recognized, not here. He couldn’t deal with the autographs and the flirting he never knew how to react to. The girl and her friend approached. Henry braced himself.

“I’m totally sorry, but are you Alex Claremont-Díaz?” she asked. Henry let out a sigh of relief. Alex straightened up with that same charming smile Henry had seen on magazine covers.

“I am.”

“Could we get a photo?” the second girl asked, twirling her hair, “My sister is like totally into you.” 

Alex let out a small laugh, “Sure. We can even get my friend to take it if you’d like?”

“That would be great!” she replied with a giggle, handing off her phone to Nora.The two girls crowded in on either side of Alex.The hair-twirling girl had moved her hands from her hair to the crook of Alex’s elbow.

Nora snapped the photo and the girls peeled off of Alex, though the one seemed a bit hesitant to do so.

“Thank you so much!” 

Alex smiled and began to walk again, calling back, “It was great to meet y’all.” Henry followed Alex down the sidewalk.

Nora hurried to catch up, “Her sister, huh?” she asked, her voice teasing. Henry let out an involuntary snort.

“What?” Alex asked.

“Oh come on,” Nora continued, “Are you totally oblivious? She was all over you.”

“She was just excited.”

“You got her excited alright,” Nora said. Henry felt himself scowl at Nora’s words. Something deep in his chest felt sharp and bitter.

Henry began to speak, “I hate when that- Or I imagine I would hate- Do you like that?”

Alex fixed Henry with a puzzled sort of look before shrugging, “Well, life isn't always what one likes; is it?”

Henry thought about Kensington Palace. He thought about his sister in the music room and his mother in her own bedroom and the secrets he had hidden in the Waterloo Vase. He couldn’t tell Alex about any of that, so he just shrugged as well, “No, it isn't.”

They fell into comfortable silence. Henry saw Nora’s gaze flicker between the two of them. He wished he knew what she was seeing. He definitely was unsure of what lingered in the air between Alex and himself.

The trio continued down the sidewalk until they reached the National Mall, the Washington Monument looming up before them. Alex came to a halt and grabbed Henry’s wrist to stop him. 

“See where the stone changes color?” Alex said, pointing about a third of the way up the obelisk, “That’s actually because they ran out of money to keep building around 1850, and then the Civil War happened, so...”

Henry listened to Alex as he continued to expand upon the history of the Washington Monument, all while Alex’s fingers were still around Henry’s wrist. As fascinating as the history of the monument may have been, it was white noise. Henry’s only thought was, _“It’s almost like we’re holding hands.”_ At that thought, Henry quickly pulled his wrist from Alex’s grip, shooting the other man an apologetic look.

Henry turned away from the monument and spotted Nora taking some photographs with her camera. She shot him a grin and took one more before lowering her camera.

Henry and Alex had fallen back into silence. Henry had ruined everything by moving his hand. It wasn’t weird, and then he had made it weird. Alex probably knew and was preparing to tell Henry that it was time to part ways. He was probably-

“- Look, bikes!” Alex called out, running over to a rack of rental bicycles, “We should go for a ride.”

Henry blushed, “I can’t. I don’t know how to-”

“We can share,” Alex said, pulling out his phone to scan the code on the bicycle rack. After a few taps at his phone, one of the locks popped loose, and Alex grabbed onto the handles of the blue bicycle. 

“Hop on.”

“On the back?” Henry asked, voice sounding a tad strangled.

“Yeah?” Alex said, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “Up close and personal, baby.”

Henry managed not to die on the spot, which he thought was quite an achievement. He felt his knees go wonky, and his throat dried up. Henry was not swooning, thank you very much. 

Alex climbed on the bike, and Henry took a deep breath before gingerly sitting behind Alex Where was he supposed to put his arms? He couldn’t _touch_ Alex. 

Nora shot Henry a knowing look from her seat on her own bike. Henry could feel his face growing redder by the minute. Henry carefully hovered his hands somewhere around Alex’s waist, very deliberately not touching.

Suddenly, Alex took off, and Henry instinctively wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist to stay seated, letting out a shout of surprise. Alex let out a laugh. Henry knew, suddenly and undoubtedly, that this man was going to ruin him. He wasn’t sure he minded.

Henry held on tightly as Alex pedaled the bike down the mall, occasionally stopping to pull Henry toward some war memorial or historical plaque. Henry noticed Nora pull out her camera as they walked through the memorials and silently wondered why Nora was taking so many pictures of a city she had pretty much lived in for three years. Henry had never taken to photographing the sites of London, though he suspected that was partly due to one of the sites being where he lived.

After a few more minutes at the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial, the three of them returned to the edge of the sidewalk where they had parked their bikes to find an officer in uniform hovering over the bikes, a notepad in her hand.

“Hello,” Alex said, plastering on a charming smile as he walked toward the officer.

“Your bike is parked illegally. It’s an obstacle for pedestrians. You can’t abandon it here.”

“Well luckily, it’s not abandoned anymore. We’ll just move our bikes out of the way,” Alex said.

“Technically, they’re not our bikes. They’re rentals,” Nora cut in with a polite smile. The officer quirked her eyebrow. Henry suddenly got the impression that Nora’s interjection was not the correct thing to say. He began to back away as Alex continued to chat with the officer. 

Henry walked up to where the bikes were parked on the edge of the sidewalk. Surely riding one couldn’t be that difficult. Wasn’t there a saying? ‘Just like riding a bike’? Henry may have led a sheltered life, but certainly he could handle something the majority of five-year-olds had mastered. 

Henry glanced back over to where Nora and Alex were talking with the officer. They wouldn’t notice if he just sat down and got a feel for it. Rode a few feet maybe? Henry popped the kickstand and held the bike steady as he swung his leg over, carefully settling into the seat. This wasn’t so bad.

He fixed his eyes on a small shrub a few feet of way and decided that it seemed a reasonable enough distance for his first bike ride. He lifted his feet, and immediately the bicycle began to roll forward slowly. After a few seconds, Henry quickly realized that he had neglected to take the incline into account when planning his first-ever bike ride. He was steadily picking up speed.

Henry chanced a look backwards and saw the exact moment Alex realized what had happened. Alex’s face dropped, and he muttered something to the officer before taking off at a sprint toward Henry and the bicycle. Nora grabbed her own bicycle and took off after them, pedalling in an attempt to catch up as Henry sped faster and faster down the sidewalk.

Henry let out a shriek as the bicycle rocketed past the shrub he had set as his target and continued down the sidewalk toward a crowd of pedestrians. Where were the brakes? Why hadn’t he learned how to brake? 

Henry swerved away from the crowd and onto the grass, and the bike continued down the grassy hill. Suddenly, Henry felt the bike wobble as Alex caught up to him and swung himself onto the bike behind Henry.

“Let me take over,” Alex shouted above the rush of the wind, his hands moving to cover Henry’s on the handlebars, and wasn’t that something...

Henry pushed Alex’s hands away, “No I’ve got it! I can do this.” He would show Alex that he didn’t need any help. He would show everybody he could do this. He had to do this. 

The bike careened past the edge of the grass and into traffic. He couldn’t do this. Henry pulled his hands off the handlebars, and Alex quickly took over, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car. This was how Henry was going to die: in a freak bicycle accident with the first son of the United States pressed up against his back.

Alex kicked at Henry’s feet, and the bike skidded to a halt. Henry immediately clambered off the bike and sat down on the sidewalk. He buried his face in his hands, attempting to process his near-death experience. When he looked up, a police officer was glaring at him. 

\---  
  


The DC police station by the National Mall was nice, all things considered. Henry absently thought that they must clean often. He shook himself out of his thoughts. Now was not the time to be thinking about the cleanliness of the station. Not when he was seated across from an older male officer and a half dozen witnesses.

“You are charged with hazardous driving, obstructing traffic, disobeying traffic controllers, and speeding.”

“You can get a speeding ticket on a bicycle?” Alex asked Henry under his breath. Henry ignored his question. This was not good. Henry began to pace. Shaan would kill him. His grandmother would kill him.

“Officer, I can’t go to jail. Please, what can I do?” Henry asked.

“Calm down,” the officer said, “It’s a twenty-five dollar fee for each infraction. You just have to pay the hundred dollars. You’ll have to do cash, though.”

Henry checked his pockets for the change the cashier had handed him back earlier. He pulled out a twenty. Not enough.“Alex?”

Alex rifled through the pockets of his chinos and came up empty handed.“Nora?”

“Jesus Christ, do none of us carry cash?” Nora exclaimed.

Alex shot the officer his press smile, and muttered, “Give me a second, I’ll think of something.”

Nora snapped her fingers. “I got it!” Henry watched as Nora leaned in to whisper something to the officer, whose expression went from annoyed to amused in a second.

“Oh!” the officer said, “Well, we can let it slide for now, but I expect the ticket paid by next week.”

Henry let a little of the tension leave his shoulders. Alex slung his arm around Henry’s shoulders, and began to steer the prince toward the door. “Of course, sir.”

The officer shot back an amused smile, “And congratulations!” Alex furrowed his brow and exchanged a glance with Henry. Henry shrugged. He didn’t know why the officer was congratulating them, but he was more than happy to stay out of trouble. 

The trio exited the station and held each other's gaze for a second before breaking into raucous laughter. Henry realized after a few minutes that he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed until his chest hurt. He snuck a glance at Alex, who had doubled over in laughter, eyes shining with mischief.

A moment later, some of the witnesses from earlier emerged from the station and came up to the trio, apparently unbothered by their earlier transgressions. An older woman walked up to Henry and pulled him into a hug. A man in a green coat offered his hand to Alex for a handshake. A series of ‘congratulations’ and a handful of hugs later, the witnesses dispersed. Odd.

“What exactly did you tell them?” Henry asked, turning to Nora, who seemed much too smug for someone who had been recently detained by the police.

“Just that you were on your way to a wedding,” he replied with a shrug.

“Really?” Henry said. While that excuse would certainly explain their rush, it didn’t explain why three separate women had just told him that ‘he’s a lucky man’. 

“ _Your_ wedding,” Nora added.

Henry froze. “Oh.” He could feel his face heating up and belatedly he willed himself not to blush. Nora must know about- What if the press heard- 

“-Oh,” Alex echoed. Oddly enough, his face was turning a bit pink as well.

Henry turned to Alex and continued in what he hoped was a joking tone of voice “You don't have to look so worried; I won't hold you to it.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, “And thanks for the cover, Nora. I forgot how good of a liar you are.”

Nora raised one eyebrow at that, “Aren’t we both?”

Henry watched Alex’s reaction, but he couldn’t figure out what emotion he saw flicker across Alex’s face. Guilt? Embarrassment? Alex looked almost like he had just remembered something important, and he was ashamed at having forgotten. “Um.”

Henry cut in, saving Alex from whatever was going on, “I’d like to think I’m a decent liar. Wouldn’t you say?” After all he had managed to convince Alex that he was a normal person (though he was fairly certain Nora had recognized him). He was successfully hiding the fact that he was a bit gone on Alex, and he had hidden the fact he was gay from everyone but a handful of people for nearly twenty-two years. Nora just gave an encouraging hum and a small shake of her head. 

Henry turned to Alex, but Alex seemed distracted by something in the distance. Henry allowed himself a moment while Alex was distracted to study the other man’s profile, the way Alex’s strong jaw came to a point, the way his lips pressed together as he concentrated on some distant object.

“Come on,” Alex said, grabbing Henry’s wrist and dragging him down the sidewalk. For a second, Henry thought about what it would be like to let his hand slip down into Alex’s own. He had the feeling they would fit perfectly. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun one! This took a bit longer than I expected; I got dental surgery Monday and have been in quite a bit of pain. I do not have any beta readers, so please comment if you spot any mistakes or even if you just have something to say.  
> 


	7. The Monuments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is not friends with Henry. He just enjoys spending time with Henry, and talking to Henry, and— wait.

Alex took in Henry’s face as the man stared up at where Abraham Lincoln was seated on his marble throne. The prince seemed almost intimidated by the statue, and Alex could sympathize. The statue was huge, and Lincoln’s eyes always made him feel like he was being silently judged. Sitting on that chair was a man who shaped the country and standing in front of it was...Alex.

Alex led Henry away from the tourists directly in front of the statue and toward the wall. He leaned back against the wall, shifting slightly to avoid a hole in the stonework. 

“Honest Abe,” Nora said, uncharacteristically solemn. 

Henry’s blue eyes were flitting between the various tourists, obviously alert; that wouldn’t do. Alex started talking, “Legend says that if you're lying about something, and you put your hand in this hole here it’ll be chopped off.” Nora made a face as Alex mimed a chopping motion.

Henry shuddered, “What a horrid idea. Sounds rather superstitious.”

“Let's see you do it.”

“Fine.”

Henry approached the wall, chin stuck out just a bit in a way that somehow made him look both dignified and defiant. Alex offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile as Henry tentatively edged his fingers past the edge of the marble. A few seconds later, Henry drew back his hand sharply, eyeing the spot with distrust. 

“Let's see you do it,” Henry said. A competition? Alex could do competition.

“Sure,” Alex replied, taking a step toward the wall. Making sure to maintain eye contact with Henry, Alex slowly slid his fingers into the crack in the marble. Hopefully there were no animals living in there. Henry bit his lip as Alex pushed in his hand up to the wrist. 

“Aaaah!” Alex pretended to struggle with his hand, deliberately pinching his features into a pained expression. Henry immediately rushed to Alex’s side, a frantic look in his eyes.

“Alex!”

Alex sent Nora a wink over Henry’s shoulder, and she shot back a grin before quickly snapping a photograph. He could feel Henry’s rapid heartbeat from where the blond was pressed against his side. Alright, that was enough of that. Alex withdrew his hand with a grin, and Henry’s jaw dropped. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” Henry said, playfully punching Alex in the shoulder. Alex looked up from his hand and met Henry’s gaze. A second passed before Henry suddenly pulled back, as if he had touched a hot stove. His face was screwed up into something resembling anxiety. Alex hadn’t meant to worry him so much.

“It was just a joke! There’s no legend.”

“I can’t believe I fell for that,” Henry said, finally allowing his defenses to drop and letting out what could only be described as a giggle. Huh. His Royal Highness, Prince Henry, giggled. 

Alex turned away from Henry and gestured toward the steps, “Alright, let's go.”

Nora and Henry had begun to walk toward the top of the steps when Alex quietly snuck up behind Henry and tapped the other man on the shoulder. Henry let out a shout and took off down the steps. Alex immediately broke down laughing, ignoring the odd look Nora was sending him. 

Why would she be giving him a look? It’s not like he was _friends_ with Henry; he just enjoyed joking around with him and spending time with him and...wait a second. Nora sent Alex another look. Dammit. Why did she always have to be right?

\---

Henry seemed oddly thrilled to be passing through museum security. The man had practically lifted off the ground when the guard asked him to walk through a metal detector. To him, it wasn’t an inconvenience, it was a novelty. Alex didn’t exactly understand Henry’s thought process, but he wanted desperately to learn more about what went on in Henry’s head.

They were friends. Officially so in Alex’s mind, even if Henry had assumed a fake identity. The fake identity made him realer somehow, more of a person. The type of person who believed in urban legends and was excited to go through museum security. The type of person Alex might not hate after all.

After passing through security, Alex grabbed Henry’s wrist, used to guiding him by this point, and began to drag him toward the area where they displayed special exhibitions. Occasionally, Henry or Nora yelled at Alex to stop so they could look at the art or Nora could take a photograph, but Alex never allowed these pauses to drag on. 

Alex wove through the crowd of visitors, holding onto Henry’s wrist to avoid losing the prince. He couldn’t afford to lose Henry in the crowd. Zahra would have his head on a silver platter, probably with a garnish.

Finally, Alex came to a stop in front of the wall that housed the exhibit he had read about in the paper last week. The gallery wall was almost completely covered in neon post-its, the color peeking out past the graphite of pencil sketches and cramped writing. 

Henry walked up to the wall, leaning toward a sketch but not touching it. Alex had noticed that Henry did that: getting close but trying not to touch. Henry had done it earlier, on the bike. Alex didn’t know why. If he had to guess, he would attribute it to a stuffy royal upbringing.

“What are all of these for?” Nora asked, walking up to a different section of the wall.

Alex joined Henry in front of the wall, “It’s a temporary exhibit. Each one is a wish that’s been granted. The artist puts up new ones every day. Whenever people’s wishes are granted, they write it down, and then the artist draws the wish.”

Henry scanned the wall, “Lovely.” The three of them stood there in silence, reading over the wishes that had come true. Alex noticed a lime green post-it with a sketch of a little girl playing next to loopy cursive: ‘The adoption papers went through.’ A few rows below, two hands joined over scratchy writing: ‘She loves me too.’

“What would you wish for?” Henry asked, tearing his eyes away from the wall.

Alex sifted through his goals: graduate from Georgetown, become a senator, keep going. One wish and then the next and the next. What would he pick if he could only have one wish fulfilled? “I don’t know. What about you?”

Henry let out a laugh, not light like it had been earlier, but dark and sour. “What I wish doesn’t matter. Anyway, the chances of it being granted are very slight.”

“As slight as the chances of spending a day running around DC with the first son of the United States?”

“Probably even less so.” Alex definitely did not know Henry as well as he thought he did. Maybe he had never known Henry, really. Henry turned back to the wall of post-its. What could Henry possibly want that he couldn’t have? Something settled heavily in the air between the two men. A door had just opened, or maybe it had closed.

Nora’s voice broke the spell,“Well, what now?” Yes, what now? What was Alex supposed to do now that he had gone and become intrigued by Henry and his wish?

“If you two enjoy dancing, I heard of a wonderful place for dancing on a boat,” Henry said.

Alex vaguely remembered a flyer stuck to some campus bulletin. “Oh, you mean the party on the wharf.”

“Yes. It’s not my usual scene,” Henry said with a sheepish smile, “but today is all about trying new things. So why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” Nora said, shooting Alex a mischievous look. 

“And at midnight I’ll lose my glass slipper and my carriage will turn back into a pumpkin.”

Alex thought Henry's situation was the opposite. Turned from an anonymous runaway into the Prince of Wales at the stroke of midnight. Though, the story of Cinderella was about freedom, not status. The two were often inversely related.

Alex wasn’t supposed to be psychoanalyzing Henry. He wasn’t supposed to connect with the man. He was supposed to ask him some personal questions, get Nora to take a few photos, and report back to June. That’s all this was. 

“Well, I guess Nora has to go now,” Alex said.

Nora looked up from where she had been flipping through her camera, ”I do?”

“Yes, you know, that big business _development_ of yours that you have to attend to.”

Understanding dawned on Nora’s face as Alex subtly gestured to her camera, “Oh, the development.”

“Yes, gotta take care of that.”

“Yeah,” Nora replied absentmindedly, putting the cap back on her camera and heading toward the museum entrance, I'll see ya later, H”

“Good luck with the big development,” Henry called after her. 

Alex watched Henry wave goodbye to Nora and tried to start a list of things he never knew about Henry before. A list of ways that this Henry was different from the man he had been building in his head ever since that day at the Olympics. He didn’t know where to start; there were too many to count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for sightseeing. Next up: Alex and Henry grab dinner alone and talk. About what? Guess you’ll have to find out. Feedback is always appreciated. Comment if you spot any mistakes or if you just want to say hello.


	8. Good talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex isn’t flirting with him; Henry knows that. Now if only his heart would get the memo.

The restaurant Alex and Henry had ducked into for dinner a few blocks from the museum was a Tex-Mex joint, packed with brightly painted tables and tacky fake cow skulls. Henry pretended to understand as Alex chatted with their waitress in rapid-fire Spanish. He let himself get lost in the way Alex’s voice glided over the words, the antithesis to Henry’s stuttering attempts at learning Spanish at school before he switched to French.

The waitress nodded and left the table, leaving Alex and Henry alone for the first time since that morning. Both men picked up their menus and for a moment everything felt silent and still, despite the music playing over the speakers and the chatter of other diners.

Alex put down the menu and focused on Henry, “Tell me about yourself.”

“Um. There’s not much to tell”

“A guy like you? That can’t be true,” Alex said. Was he flirting? That certainly sounded like flirting. No. Alex wasn’t- no. 

“Fine. There’s not much I _want_ to tell.” But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Henry looked across the table at Alex, and suddenly he wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to speak and speak until all the words that he had locked away in his head were used up. He wanted to recite poetry and never stop talking to Alex, being with Alex. 

Nope. No, no, no. Too far. Shut that down right now. Fantasizing about kissing Alex while lying in his own bed an ocean away was one thing, but this? This was different, terrifying. 

“Just small talk,” Alex amended with a smirk. “You don’t need to tell me your darkest secrets, sweetheart.”

Henry felt his face flush. Blast Alex with his infuriating pet names and slight drawl that shouldn’t be sexy, it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t make Henry’s feel like there was honey dripping from Alex’s lips and fire running through Henry’s veins.

“What do you want to know?” Henry asked, using his own menu to block Alex’s face from his view.

“Hmmm. Favorite Star Wars movie?” Well that wasn’t what Henry had expected Alex to ask.

“ _Return of the Jedi.”_

“Wrong. It’s _Empire_.”

Henry scoffed. “You asked for my favorite. How can I be wrong about my own favorite movie? And _Empire_ is so dark.”

“It’s deep. It’s got the Han and Leia kiss and _the_ greatest plot twist ever. What does _Jedi_ have?”

“A happy ending. _Jedi_ leaves you feeling-” Henry trailed off, almost embarrassed to admit his attachment to the film.

“What?” Alex prompted.

“Hopeful. It makes you feel that everything will turn out in the end.” Alex went quiet for a second. Henry lowered his menu to evaluate Alex’s expression; he looked surprised, almost. 

Before either of them could say anything more, the waitress returned with their drinks. Henry took a sip of his water to avoid speaking. 

“Do you know what you want?” Alex asked. Henry knew what he wanted; it was right in front of him, not that he could have it. “From the menu?” Alex continued when Henry didn’t respond. Ah yes. The menu. 

“Um- I haven’t really-” _been paying attention to the menu because I’ve been watching you “-_ decided.”

“You good if I order for both of us?” Alex asked.

“That’s fine.” Henry listened as Alex ordered the food, occasionally catching a familiar word. Henry may not have been fluent in Spanish, but he knew what _queso_ meant, thank you very much. The waitress nodded her head as she scribbled down their order before disappearing into the back. 

Alex turned back to Henry, “We’ve covered favorite movie, even if yours is wrong. What about books?” 

Henry knew the answer he was supposed to give; he had been prepped for interviews before. His favorite book was supposed to be _Great Expectations;_ it had a straight, English male author, something the press team could get behind. This wasn’t an interview; this was Alex. 

“ _Pride and Prejudice.”_

“My sister is obsessed with the movie.”

“As she should be. It’s a masterpiece. Austen really captured the spirit of what it means to be different and independent in a time when social status dictated life outcome. Elizabeth doesn’t just marry because it’s expected; she marries because she is truly, passionately in love with Darcy. That’s not even mentioning the significant amount of subtext throughout her other works alluding to-” Henry cut himself off. Across the table, Alex looked shocked.

“I can’t believe you’re-” Oh no. He had given himself away, somehow. Alex knew. Alex was going to abandon Henry in this mid-grade Tex-Mex restaurant and tell the press. “-a secret nerd!” Alex finished. 

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said, reaching for his water, “I didn’t expect you to be so-”

“So?” Henry prompted, challenging.

“Dorky.” 

“Why? Do you think you’re so adept you could categorize my entire personality after knowing me for a day?” Henry asked, causing Alex to sputter and throw up his hands in mock surrender.

“I- Of course not- I just-”

“It’s alright,” Henry said, “Most people think the same thing.” Henry thought back to his time at uni, the way his classmates had gone quiet when Henry passed out of some sort of reverence or resentment. He thought back to his last meeting with Alex a few years ago, when the other man had encouraged him to jump into the Thames. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of their waitress with the food. Alex thanked her before grimacing.

“I wish DC had real Mexican food, not this Americanized, cheese-drenched shit,” Alex said, taking a hesitant forkful of beans from his plate. Henry picked up his own fork and dug into his veritable mountain of eggs,chips, and salsa. He took one bite and immediately went back for more. The food was a little spicy, but it was incredible. He had no idea what Alex was talking about.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Henry told Alex after swallowing a mouthful of food. “It’s so flavorful.”

“To you. You’re British. Don’t y’all put beans on a piece of bread and call it a meal,” Alex teased.

“Do not disrespect the culinary innovation that is beans on toast, you uncultured Yankee.” 

“You did not just call me a Yankee,” Alex said.

“I did. Beans on toast is a staple. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“What I don’t understand is how a country can colonize half the world looking for spices and then not use any of them!” 

Henry snorted in spite of himself. Alex was funny and surprisingly nice, when he wasn’t encouraging Henry to throw himself into the river. Henry wished he could- Nope. It was bad enough he was plagued by his stupid attraction to the man; Henry didn’t need to go fall in love with him (at least not anymore than he already had). 

The problem was that Alex made it so easy to fall with his curls and his charm and his passionate Star Wars opinions. Henry chanced a glance up from his plate and smiled when Alex took a bite of chicken and actually pouted. Despite himself, Henry was falling for Alex; he could only hope it wouldn’t kill him when he hit the ground.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled parts of their texts from the book to build this conversation. Obviously, their relationship is operating on a bit of an accelerated time line. Comment if you spot any mistakes, or if you want to say hi!


	9. The Wharf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing with Henry is fun, and Alex only feels a little bit guilty. Just a smidge.

Alex had been to the District Wharf before, when his father had first gotten the Senate seat and had become convinced that June and Alex needed to see every corner of DC. While Alex didn’t remember all of that trip, he did remember the wharf, solely because June had nearly pushed him into the Potomac. He hadn’t been back since, not because of that, but because being the President’s son usually meant watching fireworks from the White House lawn instead of the pier.

The Wharf was normally crowded with tired tourists looking for lunch, but at night the pier was transformed. Twinkling lights snaked overhead, strung between posts lining the edges of the pier. Alex’s chest vibrated as the heavy beat of music rang out from a large boat parked at the end of the pier. Alex glanced over at Henry, the prince’s face thrown into contrast by the twinkling lights above them. What was that word Alex had learned in the art history elective he had to take? _Chiaroscuro_. 

Alex grabbed Henry’s wrist as they entered the crowd of people, determined not to lose the prince. Zahra might excuse a day of sightseeing if she felt particularly generous, but there was no way Alex would not be skinned alive if he lost a foreign leader. Alex kept a tight grip as the two wove through the crowd on the pier toward the boat.

Once they crossed onto the boat, Alex noticed that Henry looked distinctly uncomfortable among the crowd of people dancing in time to the music. Henry’s eyes darted around the boat, taking it all in. Alex watched as Henry did that awkward little side step thing that every white person did at weddings. He tried to stifle his laughter, but Henry turned on him, face flushed 

“Okay, I don’t really dance. Or rather, I don’t dance like that,” Henry said, gesturing to a couple grinding up on each other a few feet away. The two were about five minutes away from a public indecency charge.

“You just need to loosen up. Feel the music,” Alex said, moving his hips, “Watch.”

Henry’s face flushed even darker, “I’m watching.”

Alex grabbed Henry’s arm and pulled the other man toward him, feeling Henry instantly tense.

“You’ve gotta relax,” he said, leaning to talk in Henry’s ear so he could be heard over the music. Henry tensed up even further for some reason. Alex ignored it and shrugged, leaning out of Henry’s space and resuming his dancing.

After a few more songs, and several dubiously sweet drinks, Henry had sufficiently loosened up. He was even attempting the occasional head bop, which Alex thought was hilarious. Alex let out a whoop when Henry made a valiant attempt at shimmying his hips. 

When the music switched to a slower song, Alex pulled Henry off the dance floor for a break. Alex kept his hold on Henry’s wrist as he crossed to the bar. Alex needed a drink. He was sweaty and there wasn’t nearly enough alcohol in his bloodstream to call this night a success.

Henry slid up to Alex’s side as Alex ordered a drink. After the bartender turned away, Henry spoke up. “You spent the whole day doing things I've always wanted to. Why?”

Alex looked into Henry’s eyes and physically felt the guilt hit him in one giant wave. He grabbed his drink from where it had been set down on the bar and took a long sip. “I don't know,” Alex replied, breaking eye contact, “Seemed like the thing to do.”

Henry smiled at that, another one of those real, not-for-the-press smiles. “You surprised me. I thought you- I never knew you were so kind.”

“You never knew me before.”

Henry startled slightly at his blunder before composing himself, “Right. I suppose I didn’t really.”

The moment was shattered when a woman with a pierced eyebrow and a blinding smile rushed over to the bar. “Oh! there you are! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” she said, addressing all of this to Henry. How did Henry know this woman? He’d only been in DC for a day, and he had spent the whole day with Alex. Something in Alex’s chest tightened strangely. Weird.

Henry turned to the woman with a bashful smile, “I wasn’t going to come but…” Henry stopped and gestured toward Alex. “Sorry. I forgot to introduce you properly. This is Alex.”

Alex put on his most charming grin and offered his hand.The woman shook it as she introduced herself, “Maria Delani.” She paused for a moment, seemingly searching Alex’s face for something. “Wait: Alex like Alex Clare-”

Alex cut her off before he could be mobbed by the other partygoers, “-So are you two friends?”

“Oh,” Henry said, looking mildly confused as to how he should respond, “She sold me my clothes this afternoon and invited me here.” Ah. He met her at the shop earlier; that explained it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Maria.”

“You too,” Maria replied absentmindedly, distracted by the new song that had started. She turned back to Henry and extended her hand; Alex noticed she had a tattoo snaking up her forearm, but he couldn’t make out the inky words. Henry glanced at her offered hand, looking altogether puzzled.

“Do you wanna…” Maria nodded toward the dance floor. Henry’s expression turned from one of puzzlement to embarrassment. Alex thought it was strange that Henry would be easily embarrassed by a girl asking him to dance. The man was a goddamn prince; he probably attended balls. At Henry’s hesitation, Maria tensed and turned to Alex with a look on her face reminiscent of a child that had been caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “Do you mind?” she asked.

Oh. She thought they were- that Henry and Alex- that the two of them-

“Oh. We’re not- go right ahead,” Alex replied, feeling himself flush.

Maria shot Alex a wink and grabbed Henry’s hand, pulling him to the dance floor. The two stood there awkwardly for a minute before the song switched to something less electronic. Alex saw Henry whisper something into her ear before launching into a perfect waltz because, of course he would. All the royal ballroom lessons Henry had no doubt been subjected to were finally paying off. Good for him.

Nora’s voice pulled Alex’s gaze away from the dancing couple.

Nora slid up next to him and took a sip of his drink without asking, in that way that was allowed because they spent over half of their time together. “Hey, Alex. How was dinner? Did I miss anything?”

“It was…” Alex debated whether to admit to Nora that she and June had been right about Henry not being a total dick, “Nothing. You haven’t missed anything” 

Nora raised an eyebrow at Alex’s obvious deflection but shrugged when he didn’t continue. “Who's Henry dancing with?” 

“Cashier- she sold him his shirt this afternoon.” 

“The prince and the store clerk,” Nora remarked with amusement, “Great photo op.”

Nora walked around the other side of the bar, and braced her arm against the table, her old fashioned camera raised. She waved away the bartender and snapped a shot of Henry and Maria waltzing across the dance floor. The other partygoer surrounding the two seemed half-impressed and half-perplexed. Alex doubted that the majority of them had enough coordination remaining to attempt anything like a waltz.

Nora jumped back across the bar after taking a few more shots, apparently satisfied with her work. Alex kept his eyes on Henry and Maria. He shoved the hand not holding his drink into his pocket and felt something. What was in his- Oh right.

“Hey, Nora,” Alex spoke up, “I got you something.”

“Really?”

Alex pulled out the necklace he had picked up at the craft market and tossed it to her, “Got it while I was stalking Henry. Guy at the market wouldn’t leave me alone until I bought something. I was gonna give it to June, but then I remembered she has one like it. ”

Nora held up the necklace, scrutinizing it with caution, as if Alex had just given her a well-disguised grenade. “Alex, are you trying to rekindle our epic romance?” Nora sighed, voice thick with faux passion like an actress in one of the telenovelas Alex totally _did not_ watch. She leaned in and planted an overly-loud, smacking kiss on his cheek with a smirk before both of them burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew I had to incorporate the dance scene into this fic somehow. Comment if you catch any mistakes because I did not edit this chapter (busy week).


	10. Goodbye?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is allowed to flirt with anybody he pleases. That doesn’t mean Henry has to enjoy watching said flirting happen.

Henry quickly looked away from where Alex and Nora were laughing at the bar. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Maria for Henry to be looking at somebody else. It wasn’t fair to Nora and Alex for Henry to discourage their relationship because he was selfish. It wasn’t fair to his family for Henry to want what he wasn’t supposed to. Henry wasn’t supposed to _want_ things; the kind of all-consuming desire that filled him up when he looked at Alex wasn’t fair to anybody. 

The music switched back to something more uptempo, and Henry gave Maria one final twirl before dropping his hands. Maria grinned at him, overly rakish and charming in a way that seemed familiar, an almost Alex grin. Almost.

“Could I get your number?” 

Henry looked over to where Alex was standing with Nora at the bar, head thrown back in laughter. He watched Alex’s hands as the other man grabbed his drink. He traced the line of Alex’s neck before coming back to himself. “Oh I’m sorry- I,” he stammered. 

Maria followed his gaze toward the bar and her expression morphed into a knowing smile, “I see.”

She knew. If she could see it after one dance, that meant everybody could see how hopelessly gone Henry was. He couldn’t handle the idea, but deep down he felt almost excited. Some small part of him, tucked into a corner of his brain between French verb tenses and dining etiquette, wondered if it would be so bad for the world to know. He pushed that part further into its corner. “Please don’t-“

“I won’t say a word, but you’re a nice guy. Anyone can see that. You deserve to get what you want.”

He deserved to get what he wanted; what a revolutionary idea. “Thank you.”

Henry watched Maria as she slipped away into the crowd of dancers. He hoped she found someone to dance with who would watch her, and only her, the whole time. She was a very nice girl, but unfortunately, Henry couldn’t make himself fall for nice girls. It would be so much easier if Henry could love the kind, beautiful girls he met at parties and charity fundraisers, but that spot in his heart was reserved for slightly arrogant, passionate first sons who could never love Henry back. 

Another slow song started up, and Henry moved to return to the bar, less than enthusiastic at the prospect of witnessing Alex and Nora flirt with each other. Before he reached the edge of the dance floor, he found himself distracted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to face a woman in her thirties, dressed all in black. The woman offered her hand to Henry, elegant in a way that made Henry question what she was doing at a party on the pier when she held herself the way Henry had been taught to stand in posture coaching. 

Henry took the woman’s hand and pulled her into a box step, which she adapted to with ease. The two of them twirled around the dance floor, the nameless woman an adept dance partner. The voice crooning from the speakers filled up the air, cutting off the sounds of Alex talking, of Alex laughing. When Henry went to pull her in from a turn, the woman lingered and leaned in toward him. 

“Your Highness,” she whispered in a clipped British accent. Henry looked up at her sharply, barely managing to continue the simple steps as he attempted to subtly pull away. The agent held him in place. “You'll dance quietly towards the entrance. There is a car waiting.”

Henry chanced one more glance toward the bar, where Alex and Nora were pressed together, sides touching. He remembered the feeling of Alex’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him through DC. Henry let himself indulge, for one second, in the memory of Alex’s back pressed up against him on the bike. He knew it wouldn’t last- couldn’t last. Henry had had his day of freedom, living as an anonymous person out in the world, now it was time to go back to dignity and decorum and decay. 

“Alright.”

Henry danced with the agent, slowly moving toward the ramp that connected the boat to the pier. He dropped his hands when they reached the ramp and spent a second drinking it all in: the noise of the party, the slight chill in the air, the string lights reflecting off the water. When the agent placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder to guide him off the boat, Henry heard someone speak up.

“Stop bothering him.” Henry whipped his head around to find himself face-to-face with Alex Claremont-Díaz. Alex’s eyes were burning, so different from their usual sparkle. It would be attractive if Henry’s brain could get past what was happening right now. Once Alex realized who Henry was, he would probably be begging for Henry to be dragged away.

“Alex, it’s fine. I’m going back home.”

“But-”

Henry cut him off with a shake of his head. “It’s for the best. Go back to Nora,” he encouraged, hating himself for the flash of jealousy that ripped through him. “I know you want to. You two have-”

Alex’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion before he turned to look back at where Nora stood by the bar. “-Oh, we’re not...anymore.” Wait, what? 

Henry turned to the agent, “Could I have a moment?”

“We have to go.”

“Just a minute,” he insisted. The agent pursed her lips before shaking her head; she reached for Henry to escort him off the boat. Suddenly, Henry felt himself pulled in the opposite direction by a hand on his wrist, Alex’s hand. 

Henry knew he would be admonished harshly for ditching his security detail, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He had to know what Alex had meant earlier. Alex and Nora weren’t- what? Official?

Henry followed Alex as the man ducked into the crowd, weaving between the mass of intoxicated dancers with ease. Henry glanced backward, spotting the agent he had danced with scanning the crowd. A similarly dressed man with an earpiece was doing the same a few feet away. Henry watched as Alex gaze flickered between the two visible agents before searching for others along the edges of the pier. 

The entire pier was packed with people, mostly dancing or chatting amongst each other. Henry spotted five agents on the pier, made obvious by their lack of interaction with the crowd. The pier was the only way to get from the boat to the bank. Unless…

“Alex, I’m going to suggest we do something rather stupid and reckless,” Henry gasped from where they had come to a stop near the edge of the boat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Henry let his hand slide up so Alex was no longer holding Henry’s wrist, but his hand. Henry ignored the spark of electricity that traveled up his arm, locked eyes with Alex, and pulled the other man into the Potomac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. What have they gotten themselves into? Feedback is always appreciated (especially if you spot a mistake).


	11. The Riverbank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex can tell Henry’s ready to confess the secret that would make the article, but Alex isn’t sure that he wants to know it.

Alex’s first three coherent thought after he pulled himself up out of the river and onto the bank were, in order:

1\. Fuck, it’s cold.

2\. Zahra’s going to kill me.

3\. I was wrong about Henry.

Alex was so wrong about Henry. The guy had just pulled Alex into a river _in_ _October_ ; Henry had to be certifiably insane and… fun. 

Alex flopped back onto the grassy bank, watching as Henry climbed up after him, blond hair dripping in his face. Henry's face lit up with a small grin, and Alex felt the sudden, inexplicable need to look away. Alex closed his eyes.

“Do you plan to sleep on the grass?” he heard Henry ask. Alex cracked one eye open to see Henry hovering over him, stars peeking out from behind his head. Alex groaned in response before reaching out toward Henry.

“Help me up.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Henry snorted, grabbing onto Alex’s outstretched hand and yanking Alex to his feet rather ungracefully. Alex began to wring out the edge of his shirt.

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s royalty here!” Alex protested, teasing. When Henry gave no response, Alex looked up from his futile attempt at drying his clothing. Henry’s face was almost comical, mouth open and eyes wide. Alex ran over his words: _I’m not the one who’s-_ “Shit.”

“You knew.”

Alex brought up his hand to rub at the back of his neck, “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Henry asked. Henry turned away from Alex, his eyes wild, angry and almost...sad? 

“I thought it would be better that way.”

“I thought you hated me?”

“I kinda did.” Alex let out a soft chuckle as he remembered the Olympics, the state dinners, the feeling of constantly being shown up by Henry, living his charmed life in his palace. Alex remembered obsessing over Henry’s every move, desperate to find a flaw. He had wanted to find proof that everyone felt like this, that Alex wasn’t just fucked up. Maybe that was why he had agreed to get June’s interview.

“Oh,” Henry whispered, broken and breathless.

“Not anymore though.” Now he knew Henry. He had learned more about the man in the past twenty-four hours than he had in years of reading tabloids and attending international events. Alex had tried to hate Prince Henry, but he really didn’t hate Henry. Henry, who was nerdy, a bit awkward even. Henry, who loved Star Wars, even though his opinions were wrong. Henry, who had this odd expression sometimes when he saw Alex, like he was looking _into_ Alex instead of _at_ him. 

That same strange emotion passed over Henry’s face, “ _Oh._ ” He went quiet, just _looking._

“Yeah,” Alex replied, desperate to fill up the endless silence that had wrapped around the two of them, rolling off the river like fog. “Can I ask why?”

“Why what?”

“All of it I guess,” Alex shrugged, “Why you didn’t tell me, why you stuck with me, why you ran away?”

“D’you ever wonder,” Henry said slowly, “what it’s like to be some anonymous person out there in the world?”

Alex wondered where he would be if his mom wasn’t the president of the United States, if he wasn’t the first son. Sure, he might have a little more privacy, but Alex knew his mom was good for the country. He could sacrifice a few things for four (hopefully eight) years if it meant she made things better. But Henry? Henry wasn’t sacrificing four years; he was sacrificing his life, his whole life.

“You saw the monuments, ate ice cream, danced with a pretty girl,” Alex listed off, leaving Henry’s question unanswered, “You got to go after everything you wanted.”

Henry snorted, expression almost bitter. Alex had never seen that look on Henry; he decided he didn’t like it.

“What? You didn’t want a little romance?” 

“I did- I do,” Henry corrected, his voice acidic in a way that was unsuited for discussions of romance, “But I shouldn’t pursue it. Not as the prince at least. Romance isn’t really open to me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Alex asked. Henry was a prince, surely girls flocked to him. While Henry’s prospects may not all be well-intentioned, Alex had heard enough to know they were numerous.

“You don’t know?”

Know what? “No.”

Henry stepped toward Alex, the stubborn set of his jaw lit up by a distant street lamp, “Really? After spending the whole day with me you can’t think of any reason why-”

“No!” Alex could feel that something was changing, something huge. This was what he had been searching for: Henry’s secret. Alex didn’t want it. He didn’t want Henry’s secret anymore; he didn’t want to keep lying. “Henry... there's something that I want to tell you...about today. Why I-”

Alex didn’t finish his confession because suddenly Henry’s lips were on his, which was not very conducive to speaking, or thinking for that matter. All thoughts of secret interviews and fake identities floated away, replaced by one thought: _Henry’s lips are soft._

There were still droplets of water clinging to Henry’s face from their dip in the river, cool against Alex’s cheek. This was- it was- this was insane. Where did- Why- then Henry’s mouth opened slightly and Alex found he didn’t care about the reasons right now. He cared about kissing Henry. He must have been falling, or flying, though the two were practically the same. Alex leaned into the kiss, letting out a soft noise as Henry’s hand came up to cup his face.

Henry drew back suddenly, leaving Alex breathless. Alex stood, frozen in place, as Henry mumbled some sort of curse and turned away. He watched as Henry took off up the bank and then down the sidewalk. 

“Oh,” Alex said to himself, bringing his hand up to where Henry’s had touched his face. “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we got to the kiss! But what happens now? Comments are always appreciated, especially if I made a mistake.


	12. Bad Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry kissed Alex, now he just has to find an island to disappear to forever. Too bad imperialism means most of them are under British rule.

Henry had ruined everything. He had taken a perfectly good friendship and put pressure on it like Alex was something that could be molded to fit Henry’s daydreams. Like Henry’s burgeoning friendship with Alex was a piece of coal that could eventually be turned into a diamond; only, instead of ending up with a diamond, Henry had ended up with broken pieces of coal. He had lost control of his emotions, his wants.

His only hope was to disappear to a remote island, one where nobody knew he was a prince and Alex would never find him. He just needed to find an island that hadn't been taken over by his bloody family. That actually narrowed down his options quite a bit given Britain's history of imperialism. 

It would be one thing if Henry had basically flipped off the crown by kissing some stranger in a pub. Instead, Henry had to go fall in- Nope. He wasn’t going to let himself think about how he felt, or how that kiss had sent electricity down his spine. He wasn’t allowed to think about how kissing Alex had felt more right than anything he had ever done with his life, even if it was bound to end in disaster. Henry had finally hit the ground, and damn did it hurt. 

A news anchor’s voice drew Henry out of his daze, blasting from a row of televisions in the window of some tech store. 

“There is no further word from the bedside of Prince Henry in Washington, where he fell ill yesterday, on the last leg of his goodwill tour. This has given rise to rumors that his condition may be serious, which is causing alarm in-.” 

Henry turned away from the television. What had he been thinking? He had let himself believe he could be some random person for one day, but he wasn’t a random person; he was Prince Henry of Wales. He had let himself slip, and it had been so easy to slip into a life of wandering the streets with Alex. It had been so easy to shed their skins, to transform from ‘the Prince of Wales and first son of the United States’ into ‘Henry and Alex’.

Henry had been playing with fire. What would happen if someone had taken a picture of him and Alex (certainly someone had already)? What would happen if Alex told somebody else about what Henry had done? What would Henry’s brother say when he found out that Henry really was the complete and utter disappointment Phillip had always thought? What if Henry wasn’t fooling himself, and Alex really had been kissing him back?

What if? What if? What if? 

Henry spotted a slightly grimy-looking diner across the street and made a decision. He jogged across the empty street and ducked into the diner. A bell rang as Henry pushed open the door, and the overhead lights cast an almost sterile glow over the linoleum flooring. The teenager running the host desk looked up at Henry with unparalleled boredom.

“Welcome to The District Diner. How many in your party?”

Henry slowly approached the host. “Would you mind if I used your telephone?”

The guy shot him a look that suggested he very much did mind, but pointed toward the back of the diner with a sigh. Henry dropped a five in the tip jar and thanked him before heading to the phone. 

Henry paused in front of the wall-mounted telephone. Did he really want to do this? No, but Henry doing what he wanted hadn’t seemed to work out well for him lately. Henry dialed the number that had been drilled into his head since he was old enough to count. The phone rang once, twice, before someone picked up. 

“Hey, Shaan. It’s me...”

\---

Henry was back to staring into the painted eyes of the dead general. He still found the subject’s intense expression mildly disturbing, but it was preferable to the death glare Shaan was leveling at Henry. Anything was preferable to looking Shaan in the eye at the moment.

“-Got past security. We nearly had to declare a state of emergency,” Shaan said, pacing over the antique cream carpets of the suite. “Something had to have happened. You were missing for twenty-four hours; they can't all be blank.” 

“They are not,” Henry replied curtly. He was in no mood to explain the enormity of what had occurred in the past day to Shaan. To call the past twenty-four hours blank would be to call Mt. Everest ‘a hill’ or the Mona Lisa ‘a little painting’. To call the past twenty-four hours blank would be to call Alex ‘just some guy’. Not that it mattered much what Henry called Alex considering the two would never be speaking again.

“What explanation am I to offer the press? Your family?” Shaan asked, his usual cool slipping as he began to pace.

“I was indisposed. I am better.”

Shaan stopped in place, which Henry thought was a shame considering Shaan had been well on his way to wearing a hole through the ghastly carpet. Maybe if he did, whoever was charged with decorating this place could pick something less gauche. The carpet was probably an antique, but a lifetime surrounded by antiques had left Henry quite indifferent to them.

“You must appreciate that I have my duty to perform, just as you have your duties to-”

“I trust you will not find it necessary to use that word again. I know the importance of duty, and dignity, and blasted decorum! I have behaved out of a sense of duty my entire life, and I am sick of it," Henry took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. When he spoke up again, his voice felt small, "For once in my life I wanted a day where I could be a person, a real person, without worrying about all those things. I wanted one day where I could be myself, the same as everyone else. Were I not completely aware of my duty to my family and my country, I would not have come back tonight,” Shaan remained silent as Henry took pause, “Or perhaps ever.” Henry turned away from Shaan and stalked over to the bed. “I am not in the mood to discuss the day's events for a variety of reasons, and one of those reasons will no doubt make you quite frustrated with me. I would prefer to leave the explanations until tomorrow. Now, since I understand we have a very full schedule, you have my permission to withdraw.”

Shaan’s neutral expression had morphed into one that could only be described as shock. “What-“

“-That will be all, thank you, Shaan.” Henry watched as Shaan paused, as if considering protesting, before slipping out of the room.

Henry collapsed onto the bed, brought one of the scratchy decorative pillows to his face, and screamed his secrets into the fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wished rwrb gave us a look into Henry's thought process while he was ghosting Alex. Obviously, the ghosting won't be lasting quite as long in this fic because Henry and Alex do have to attend that state dinner tomorrow evening. Oh boy. Please comment if you spot a mistake or have anything to say. Next time: Alex's quarter-life sexuality crisis.


	13. The Sexuality Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Henry kissed; it's whatever, no big deal. Now if only somebody could tell that to Alex's brain

Alex lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and mentally replaying the previous day. To say Zahra had been displeased was the understatement of the century, and Alex was certain he would have been assassinated if Henry hadn’t apparently returned late last night. He remembered the words ‘kill you’ being mentioned often, along with the words ‘idiot’, ‘international crisis’, and ‘retirement’. Alex didn’t know Zahra’s exact salary, but he knew it was nowhere near high enough.

Even his mom had gotten in on the action. She had taken time out of her schedule, sat down on the edge of Alex’s bed, and given him a look that made Alex feel like hiding away for a good century or two. Her speech had been less about Alex being a threat to diplomacy and more about how disappointed she was in Alex’s lack of decision-making skills. Alex wasn’t sure which speech had been worse.

Underneath it all, floating through his mind through each reprimand, was the kiss. The Kiss, as he’d come to think of it. The Kiss that had sparked a quarter-life sexual crisis. The Kiss that had made Alex feel more than he had in a while , if he was being completely honest with himself, which he was trying to be given the whole sexuality crisis thing.

Alex shouldn’t be having a sexuality crisis; he was straight. He had been with girls, had enjoyed kissing them without thinking about guys. There had been his first kiss in sophomore year and the girl in his Econ class with the full lips and Nora (though that had been disastrous). Alex _liked_ girls. 

But also… there had been Liam, with his deep Texas drawl, and the one boy on his high school lacrosse team that Alex watched a little too closely. There had been that weird spark in his gut the first time he watched the Han and Leia kiss that had a lot more to do with Han than Leia. There had been Henry. 

Alex felt something twist around his heart at the thought of Henry. Henry passed out on a bench in his stupid, expensive clothes. Henry leaning on Alex, half-asleep. Henry in an atrocious, neon pink t-shirt. Henry, with his shy not-for-the-press smile. Henry, who was always reaching but never touching. Henry, dripping wet and pulling Alex into a kiss. Henry, with his broad shoulders and-

Alex was pulled abruptly from his thoughts by the sound of his door creaking open. He lifted his head just barely from where he had collapsed against the pillows to see June rushing into his room. 

“Alex, did you get it?”

“Did I get what?” Alex asked, turning away from his sister to bury his face in his pillow.

“The interview with Henry: did you get it?”

“No, I didn't get it.” 

The sound of June’s excited pacing came to a stop. “What? But that's impossible! Nora told me you two were together all day. Don't hold out on me.”

“Who's holding out?”

“You are.”

Alex decided his best option was to be difficult. Difficult people didn’t get asked a billion questions because nobody wants to deal with them. “What are you talking about?”

June continued on, apparently undeterred, “All I asked was for you to ask him a few questions. Something I could make a story out of.”

Alex turned over on his bed so he was facing his sister. “There’s no story.”

“There’s always a story.”

“Not-”

“Always.”

“There’s no story, June!” Alex yelled. June fell silent, and Alex wished he could sink into his mattress and stay there forever.

After a moment, June’s voice broke the silence, softer than before. “I think that maybe, there is a story, just not one you want anybody to know about. Am I right?”

Alex couldn’t deal with this right now. He couldn’t. “June-”

Alex was saved from his predicament by the arrival of Nora, who had burst through the door with an envelope in hand. Did nobody care about knocking?

“Alex, wait till you see these!” she called out, waving the envelope around.

“Nora,” Alex said quietly, hoping to subtly cut her off. 

Nora ignored him and turned to June, peeling the tape from the envelope as she did so. “June, look at-“

Alex didn’t think, he just grabbed the envelope from Nora’s outstretched hand. He peered into the envelope and pretended to shuffle through the photographs. “Just what I thought. Didn’t come out right. Sorry, June,” he said, shooting his annoyed sister an apologetic look.

“Alex, could you just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on. There’s no story.”

June shot Alex a look, but Alex held her gaze. He wasn’t going to give in, not when it came to this. June checked her phone, “Alex...I have to go; Henry’s holding the press interview today, maybe that's one story I can actually get.” 

June stormed from the room. Alex clutched the envelope tighter in his hand. He had made so many mistakes and now June hated him, Nora thought he was crazy, and Henry...who knew about Henry.

As soon as June was out of sight, Nora turned on him, “Alex, what’s up? You know what this means to her.”

“Nora... I, I don't know how to tell you this, but- I just can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Give June her story. Make _Henry_ into a story”

Nora paused. “Why not?” she asked, cautious and almost curious.

Alex had to talk to somebody about all of _this,_ and Nora was bisexual. She joked about dating June all the time. Nora was an obvious candidate. It’s not like he could talk about this with anybody outside the White House (the press would have an aneurysm).

“Nora, you’re good with numbers.”

“Excuse you, I’m _great_ with numbers,” Nora interjected. Alex couldn’t help letting out a snort at her indignation.

“Being as great with numbers as you are...what would you say are the numbers on me being not straight?”

Nora visibly startled at the question before cocking her head to the side. “Before today, I would have said seventy-eight percent, but after today…” she trailed off. Alex poked her arm to get her to continue, “After today, I’d put it closer to ninety percent.”

Alex let out a sigh. “That high, huh?’

“I mean you’ve wanted Henry to bang you since forever, but today made it painfully obvious.”

Alex spluttered, “Wait, what?!”

Nora began to tick items off on her fingers, “You’ve been obsessed with him for years. You didn’t take him back to the embassy because ‘he seemed so sad.’ You spent all day doing whatever he wanted. You took him out to dinner without me, which is rude. You stared at him all goddamn day-” Alex went to interrupt, but Nora continued, “Plus all your tells for when you’re attracted to someone: the heated eyes, the messing with your hair, th rubbing your neck when you get flustered. I know you, Alex, and I know you are totally into him.”

Alex sat on his bed, processing for a moment. 

“He kissed me,” Alex whispered. Nora perked up.

“With tongue?”

Alex buried his face in his hands and let out a whine. “Yes.”

“Nice.”

“I didn’t even know he was gay.”

Nora’s face shifted into something that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “You were there when the two of you got on that bike together, right? I don’t often say this, what with margin of error and everything, but that boy is one hundred percent homosexual. Like, ‘fun uncle who never married and lives with his roommate’ kind of gay.”

Alex briefly wondered whether he should inform Nora that her family experiences were not universal,but that wasn’t really their main issue. “Am I bi? Is that what all this means?” 

“That’s a question only you can answer.”

Alex laughed, “Isn’t that some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous therapy shit?” 

“Doesn’t make it any less wise,” Nora said with a shrug. No, it didn’t, and Alex was beginning to think he may have an answer to that question that only he could give.

\---

After one short and very awkward phone call with Liam, Alex returned to his room where Nora was still sitting in his desk chair. Alex was not ready to do all of this in one day. He felt exhausted. He felt like crying. Why would Henry just leave? Was the kiss a mistake? Henry leaving made everything ten times more confusing. Alex let out a groan.

Nora shot him an amused look before her expression softened. “The pictures came out nicely. You should look at them,” she said, opening the envelope and spreading the photographs across Alex’s desk.

It’s a testament to how frustrated Alex was that just a picture of Henry sparked something deep in his gut. Nora had taken photos throughout the day, and Henry looked good in all of them, the bastard. Alex started a mental list of things about Henry that frustrated him.

  1. Henry’s insanely blue eyes
  2. Henry’s stupidly long legs
  3. Henry’s perfect posture
  4. Henry’s pompous, perfect British accent
  5. Henry



The list was oddly similar to many of the lists Alex had made _before_ he realized he was attracted to Henry. Nora may have been on to something.

Alex sifted through the first few photos, smiling to himself at the sight of Henry sipping a cup of tea, oversized sunglasses perched on his straight nose. Alex froze when he got to a picture of the two of them in front of the Washington Monument. In the photo, Alex was holding onto Henry’s wrist with one hand and gesturing toward the monument with the other. Henry was looking right at Alex with that strange expression he got sometimes, the same expression that had been on his face right before he- _oh. That’s what that look means._

Nora spoke up as Alex continued to stare at the same photograph, “I printed off two of that one. I figured you might want to keep...”

Alex nodded, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to form words. He shifted his gaze to the next photograph and the next and the next. Henry and Alex pressed up against each other on the rental bike. Henry and Alex laughing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Henry and Alex standing in front of a wall covered in post-it notes. In almost every photograph, Henry was looking at Alex. Alex was so dumb.

Suddenly, he was able to start moving again. He could fix this. He had to fix this. Alex ripped a sheet out of his notebook and grabbed a pen.

“Can you catch up to June before Henry’s interview?” he asked Nora, not looking up from his frantic scribbling.

“Yeah.”

“Can you ask her to deliver something for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Alex...Anyway, be sure to comment if you spot any mistakes (I don't have any beta readers). The next chapter is pretty long, so I'm working on edits right now. Next chapter will be the last Herny POV chapter, unless you guys want an epilogue?


	14. Bad Press

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is still in agony over his kiss with Alex. Apparently, that's not a good enough excuse to get out of a press conference.

The problem with running away from your royal obligations for an entire day was that the obligations didn’t really go away; they were just rescheduled. Not only that, they were rescheduled on top of the previously existing schedule, meaning Henry had been herded from the agricultural organization to the orphanage to the Okonjo foundation’s DC branch all before ten-thirty. In a way, it was a blessing; Henry had no time to dwell on what happened with Alex. In a much more real way, it was hell on earth. 

Henry enjoyed using his status as a royal to help others, but he could do without the groveling and the fanfare. He never understood the need for symbolic gestures and stuffy speeches. Why did the food and agriculture organization want to give him an olive tree? He knew it was symbolic but what did they expect him to do with it? England hardly had a Mediterranean climate.

“We only have ten minutes until the start of the press conference,” Shaan said from his spot in the corner of the room. Henry let out a sigh before grabbing the plain blue tie that had been laid out for him and tying it in a neat Windsor knot. He wasn’t especially skilled at any of the more complex knots, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he was allowed to use them. 

Henry smoothed out his tie and turned to face Shaan, “Alright then, off to the races.”

\---

There was a good reason royalty did not often agree to public pressers, and this was it. As soon as Henry had finished his approved speech about the importance of upholding dignity and decorum in today’s society, the air became charged, like the feeling before a thunderstorm. At the utterance of the phrase ‘His Royal Highness will now take questions’, the storm clouds broke open.

“Prince Henry!” a voice called out from his left. Henry scanned the crowd in search of the man who had called out and froze when he caught sight of none other than June Claremont-Díaz. June ‘waltzed with Henry at Phillip’s wedding’ Claremont-Díaz. June ‘first daughter of the United States’ Claremont-Díaz. June ‘sister of the guy Henry just snogged in a moment of poor decision-making’ Claremont-Díaz. June ‘apparently a reporter’ Claremont-Díaz. 

Henry wasn’t sure what he had done in his past life, but if he were to guess based on his luck, he must have committed quite a few atrocities. Karma was the only possible way to explain the fact that Henry had (through actions rather than words) confessed his biggest secret to a man whose sister could easily plaster said secret across the front page of some paper.

Henry was pulled from his internal panic by the shouts of an older reporter on his right. The man had an almost vindictive gleam in his eye. “There have been rumors about the true reason for your absence. Several people claim to have seen you around DC. Is there any weight to these claims?”

“I-” Henry started.

“Your Highness, you were spotted with the vice president’s daughter and the first son at a number of monuments and museums. Were you-”

One staff member stepped up to the podium beside Henry, “That’s enough questions for now, thank you.” Henry felt a tap on his shoulder and turned slightly to see Shaan gesturing toward the door they had entered through. Henry could escape right now. He had already run away twice, once from his duty and once from Alex. He could do it again, but he wouldn’t.

“Let me answer this. They deserve to know,” Henry said to the man under his breath so it wouldn’t be picked up by the microphone. 

“Your Highness-”

Henry forged on, “I did spend some time touring the District with Nora Holleran and Alex Claremont-Díaz. The two are personal friends of mine, and I admire their dedication to hospitality as well as cooperation between our nations.” The press erupted into whispers and half-formed questions. Henry cut them off, “I will take no further questions concerning my relationship with Ms. Holleran or Mr. Claremont-Díaz.”

He pointed to a young woman toward the back with her hand raised, which seemed unusually well-mannered given the state of the crowd. She shot him a grateful smile before speaking, “Which of the cities visited did Your Highness enjoy the most?”

Henry paused, unprepared for such a tame question. This was one of the questions he had actually been prepared for, and the approved answer began to spill from his lips. 

“Each in its own way was unforgettable. It would be difficult to-“ he stopped himself. He knew the answer to this question, the real answer. “Washington. I will never forget Washington.” The press once again broke into quiet chaos. Henry stepped back from the podium and allowed the man from earlier to step up to the microphone.

“Photographs may now be taken.” At that, a slew of photographers pushed their way to the front of the crowd and Henry gave them his best uncomfortable press-smile. After a few minutes of flashing cameras, the photographers were waved back behind the rope separating Henry from the crowd. 

This was the part where Henry was supposed to thank everyone for coming, give a gracious wave, and disappear through the door behind him. Henry surveyed the crowd and once again locked eyes with June. He wanted some sort of explanation, and he wanted it now.

“I would now like to meet some of the ladies and gentlemen of the Press,” Henry stated, deliberately leaning toward the microphone to be sure the sentiment was picked up by the crowd. Shaan shot Henry an appraising look before giving a minute shrug and whispering something to security.

Once his security had been reorganized, Henry descended the steps on the side of the temporary platform and approached one end of the security rope. The reporter there seemed surprised by his close proximity and openly stared at Henry before giving a small shake of her head and holding out her hand. Offering your own hand first to a member of the royal family was a violation of some daft rule. Henry smiled.

“Huang, Chicago Daily News.”

“I'm so happy to see you, Mrs. Huang,” Henry replied, shaking her hand. She attempted a discreet once-over of the prince, likely trying to determine why he was behaving so oddly. Henry found he wasn’t bothered by it.

“Thank you.”

Henry continued down the line of reporters, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries until he reached June. Henry offered his hand, and she took it with a grin.

“June Díaz, Washington Post,” she said with a smile. Henry couldn’t blame her for dropping her mother’s last name in a crowd of reporters, even if many of them probably knew who she was. Heaven knows the press had enough to work with given Henry admitting to having a ‘personal relationship’ with Alex and Nora. Adding in the last member of the White House trio may send the tabloids into shock.

“So happy, Ms.Díaz”

June held up an envelope, “May I present your highness with some commemorative photos of his time in Washington?”

One of Henry’s security detail moved to intercept the envelope, but Henry grabbed it from June’s hand and subtly gestured to June with his head. After a moment, the man seemed to realize just who Henry was talking to and backed away.

“Thank you so very much.”

“Check the envelope,” she whispered. Henry nodded before continuing down the line. Only six more handshakes to go before he could retreat to his terribly-decorated room and determine whether he needed to alert public relations of an upcoming scandal.

\--- 

Henry was currently in a staring contest with a manila envelope, one that he (unsurprisingly) was losing. Was it blackmail? Obviously, Alex had told his sister something about what had happened. With Henry’s luck, the envelope included some piece intended for a gossip rag and a note demanding a decent cut of the royal fortune to keep it quiet. 

Henry blinked; this was the fourteenth time he had lost his staring contest with the folded paper. He really ought to stop whatever it was that he was doing, but staring at the envelope was much easier than actually opening it. Opening the envelope meant facing its contents. 

Henry took a deep breath. It probably wasn’t as terrible as he thought. He just had to...he peeled the tape off the back of the envelope and dumped its contents out onto the bed. A dozen or so photographs spilled out. Oh no.

Cautiously, Henry reached out and flipped one of the photographs over, expecting a shot of him and Alex and on the riverbank. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of himself at the Lincoln Memorial, face creased with worry and his hand stuck in a hole in the marble. These were Nora’s photographs. He flipped over another photograph; this one of a grinning Alex leaning up against a rack of rental bikes. He flipped over all of the photographs; none were of the kiss.

Maybe June wasn’t going to ruin his life after all. It had been awfully rude of him to assume so after she had been so kind at Phillip’s wedding. Henry picked up the envelope with a relieved sigh. He was ready to tuck the photos back into place when he spotted a folded piece of notebook paper stuck to the side of the envelope. 

He unfolded the paper.

HRH Prince Henry of Whatever,

When I first figured out who you were when I found you passed out on that bench, I almost wanted to gloat. I think I took finding you like that as some sort of fucked up proof that you were no better than I was, even if the world told me you were. I was jealous of you, not because I wanted what you had, but because I was so tired of being in constant competition with some posh asshole who brushed me off three years ago. I shouldn’t have been so quick to condemn you, because the rest of this letter definitely proves that I am the real asshole here.

You asked why I spent the whole day with you doing whatever you wanted. I never told you the real answer to that question. My sister, June, works as a junior reporter for _The Post_. She’s brilliant, but her boss won’t give her any serious stories because of her “bias”. She asked me if I would spend the day with you, interview you- and because I wanted to prove you weren’t so perfect, I agreed. 

I am so sorry. I lied to you, and I realized how wrong I was almost as soon as it started. I was supposed to give June the details of our day together for her article. After yesterday, I realized I couldn’t do that to you; you’re too good. The world was right this whole time, and I just didn’t want to listen: you are better than I am. This isn’t some self-deprecating shit, I just know that you are better than I could ever possibly be because you are so unfailingly _good_. 

I think I used to hate you because I was scared of all that goodness. 

You once asked me if I ever wondered what it would be like to be some anonymous person out in the world, and now I can say that I have thought about it. You made me think about it because, Henry, I cannot stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about every word you said to me and every time you looked at me and that kiss. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. 

I’ll be at the state dinner tonight, and I hope you’ll take time out of your busy schedule of sucking up to the other diplomats to talk to me. Please. 

Your friend?

Alex 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the original movie: the movie this fic is based off of ends with the press conference. Gregory Peck reveals he was a reporter. He makes eye contact with Audrey Hepburn. The two of them will always treasure their time together, but they both know they can't stay together. Bittersweet ending.
> 
> Henry and Alex's story does not end with the press conference. It's only just beginning.


	15. The State Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Henry need to talk. That would be a lot easier if Alex could stop thinking about Henry’s lips long enough to form a coherent sentence.

Alex checked his watch for the hundredth time, ignoring the smirk Nora sent his way. He’d been waiting at the north entrance with June and Nora for twenty minutes now, and his fingers seemed to have taken on a restless energy of their own, straightening his bowtie and combing through his hair every few seconds. 

June shot him a curious look after he adjusted his pin for the tenth time in five minutes; Alex pretended not to notice. He wasn’t ready to tell June that he was- that something was up. Telling his sister meant whatever he had with Henry (did he have anything with Henry?) was real. Alex wasn’t ready for this to be real.

Nora’s elbow in his side brought Alex back to the present, and he nodded an affirmative to whatever question June had asked. He wasn’t really concerned with any of this right now, he only cared about-

Henry.

Henry stepped out of the car only a short walk away from Alex. After a full day together with Henry wearing a neon t-shirt, it was almost shocking to see him in his perfectly tailored suit. Somebody must have put a lot of time into designing that suit. Alex felt he should send them a thank you card; maybe he should send an apology instead because he was about two seconds away from ripping that suit off Henry’s stupidly hot body.

Henry turned to thank the driver, and then his eyes locked on Alex. Alex refused to break eye contact; he was determined to win whatever stand-off was happening. Henry broke first, pulling his eyes away to focus on his feet as he made his way up the steps. He was only twenty feet away now...ten...five-

“Photos,” Zahra whispered from her spot behind Alex.

“Right,” Henry said. Alex nearly shuddered at that one word dropping from Henry’s lips. Could you become addicted to another person’s voice? He wanted to hear Henry talk about everything. Alex wanted to hear Henry speak until he lost his voice, and then the two of them could find other ways to use their mouths.

Zahra nudged Alex forward toward the line of photographers. Alex shook Henry’s hand and gave the cameras his best diplomatic smile. 

“I see you made it back,” Alex muttered, never dropping his press smile, “Nice to know you weren’t murdered or anything after you ran away.” Henry’s fake smile flickered for just a second. Before either of them could say anything more, Zahra was herding Alex into the state dining room while Henry stayed outside for more photos with Alex’s mom.

\---

An hour had passed, and Alex still hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Henry. Henry had quickly targeted a variety of helpless diplomats and pulled them into a discussion every time Alex got within ten feet of the man. It was driving him insane. Henry had the audacity to walk into what was technically Alex’s house looking like a damn dream and then act like he hadn’t had his tongue in Alex's mouth yesterday. Alex had had enough of this bullshit.

“Nora!” he hissed, pulling the woman from her spot in the corner. “I need you to get Henry alone and keep him alone for at least five minutes. I’ll be back.”

“Alex, are you trying to draw me into a scandal?” she whispered, hand coming to her chest in faux shock.

“Yes.”

“Sweet.”

With that Alex turned and made his way to where the Secret Service stood surveying the room. He scanned the line of agents. Where was- Amy!

“Amy!” Alex whispered, “Help me.”

“Is there a security issue?” Amy responded, suddenly on high alert.

“No. Just- I need to talk to Prince Henry alone.”

“I can go get the approval from his security-”

“No. _Alone._ ”

A glimmer of something like suspicion passed over Amy’s face. Alex snuck a look over to the drinks table, where Henry had been drawn into an animated conversation with Nora. His golden hair was starting to fall out of place and he was absentmindedly tapping his long fingers against his glass.

“You can take him to the Red Room. I’m giving you ten minutes.”

Alex let out a breath, “I can do ten minutes.”

Alex casually made his way toward the drinks table, arriving just in time to hear the nonsensical punchline of some unknown joke of Nora’s. “Nora, I am so sorry, but can I steal him for a minute? We have some-uh- international relations to discuss.”

“Take all the minutes you need.” 

Alex grabbed Henry by the wrist and began to steer him across the room. Amy was waiting outside the door to the Red Room, half-amused at the sight of Alex dragging the Prince of Wales around like a stubborn child at the grocery store. The comparison wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

“Is this going to be an incident?” Amy asked.

Alex considered lying but decided it was best to be honest. “Probably.”

Amy made a face before opening the door, and Alex pulled Henry into the Red Room.

“What is wrong with you?” Henry asked, pulling his wrist from Alex’s grasp.

“What’s wrong with me?!”

“Yes!”

Alex felt the sudden urge to punch Henry right in his perfect face. He grabbed Henry’s lapels, backed him against the wall, and kissed him as hard as possible. After a moment, Henry started to kiss back in earnest and- shit. 

Over the past day, Alex had attempted to convince himself that the kiss on the riverbank wasn’t all that. Alex had kissed people before, surely it hadn’t really been that special. He had been afraid to remember it as it was- exhilarating.

After a couple of minutes, both of them pull away to catch their breath. Henry looked utterly wrecked and completely gorgeous.

“We should probably slow-”

“No,” Alex growled.

“Okay.”

And then Alex leaned back in and- He was dying, lit on fire from the inside. He pushed Henry down onto one of the bright red sofas and devoured him. Henry responded in kind. In the small corner of his brain still open to coherent thought, Alex thinks- this. Henry’s knee hooked around Alex’s thigh. Henry’s eyes blown wide. Henry’s hand slowly traveling up his leg-

“One minute!”

“Fuck.” Alex pulled off of Henry, offering his hand to the other man. Henry grabbed on and stood up from the sofa. His perfectly-pressed suit was wrinkled to hell, and his shirt was coming untucked. Alex suspected he wasn’t much better.

“I’m flying back tonight,” Henry said, attempting to pat his hair back into place so it looked less like- well like what exactly had happened happened.

“Fuck,” Alex groaned. He was going to be surrounded by politicians and dignitaries for the rest of the night. As much as he may have wanted to drag Henry back to his room, he would have to restrain himself. Upholding that restraint would probably require Henry to stay on the other side of the room for the remainder of the night. And then Henry would leave.

Would Henry even want to talk to him after this? Was this just some one-time (twice technically) makeout session in the home of America’s Founding Fathers? He chanced a look at Henry, who seemed set on not making eye contact.

“Hey, look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you look like sex, and I am _trying_ not to scandalize the President of the United States, who is your _mother_.”

“Oh,” Alex replied stupidly. Henry’s face broke into that small, secret smile. Alex felt something wind up deep in his chest. He was not going to let this be a one-time thing.

“You know,” Alex began, casually adjusting his wrinkled collar, “we have a New Year’s party here every year. Given our ‘personal relationship’, it would be considered rude if you didn’t show.”

“Is that so?” Henry replied, an amused smirk on his lips. Alex looked away from Henry. If he kept looking at Henry’s mouth, there was no way the two of them would be out of here before their time was up.

“Might even spark an international incident.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

“Okay, so. You have my number. In three months you are going to come to the party. We’ll drink. I’ll watch you try to dance. At midnight, we are going to go back to my room and do unspeakable things to each other. Ring in the New Year. Sound good?”

Alex watched as Henry‘s face grew red.

“Perfect.”

Alex let himself press one last kiss to Henry’s lips before turning and walking out the door to the Red Room. If he wanted to, at that moment, Alex was sure he could conquer the world. But he didn’t want the world; he just wanted Henry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s a wrap on my first ever fic! Thank you to everyone who left kudos or commented. I will be posting a very short epilogue.


	16. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has a proposition. Henry never could say no to those eyes.

**Four years later**

———

  
“We should go on a trip,” Alex announced from where he was sprawled on the sofa with David. 

“Oh?” Henry prompted, looking up from his book. He felt his heart do a loop in his chest at the sight of Alex bathed in the golden light of the evening that filtered in through the windows of their brownstone. Four and a half years and Alex still made Henry feel like he was on fire.

“I’ve finally graduated after four years of working my ass off, and I want to spend time with you,” Alex continued, assuming an unfairly effective pout. Henry couldn’t help but agree with the other man. Alex had been working himself to death in law school, and while Henry appreciated that his fiancé was working to better the world, he missed the time of lazy days at the lakehouse.

“We went to Paris a few months ago.”

“That doesn’t count, it was for work. I want to go on vacation. Just the two of us. C’mon, baby.” And if Henry hadn’t been sold on the idea already, that had done it. His skin felt almost fizzy as Alex shot him a knowing grin and stood up from the couch.

“That sounds perfect, love. Where did you want to go?”

Alex froze in place, apparently caught off-guard by the question. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, what would you like to do?” Henry prompted. A grin slowly spread across Alex’s face. Henry knew that look. That was the ‘mess with senators’ nameplates’ look, the ‘kiss Henry in front of the press look’. The ‘I’m going to get in trouble, and you’re in it with me’ look. Henry wasn’t sure if he loved it or hated it. Who was he kidding? He loved it. He loved every single one of Alex’s looks: they were Alex’s.

“I don’t know…” Alex said, furrowing his brow in an exaggerated expression of contemplation. “Maybe go to a sidewalk café, get a biking ticket, go through museum security, jump into a river, have fun.”

“Maybe some excitement?” Henry replied, remembering their conversation years ago.

“I’d do whatever I’d like, the whole day!” Alex exclaimed, walking up to Henry and looping his arms around the man’s waist.

“Why don’t we do all those things,” Henry said, “together?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was really short, but I wanted to do a time skip. This fic is officially finished.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be switching between Alex and Henry POV. If you are familiar with the original movie, you will probably notice I have changed a few things to make the storyline fit better (ex: they’re in DC, it’s not the 1950s). Feedback is always welcome. Please let me know if I missed any spelling or grammatical errors.


End file.
